Michaela's Choice
by Linda4HIM59
Summary: Slightly AR. It's 1867. Michaela, engaged to Captain David Lewis, travels to join him where he is stationed in Arizona. Once there, she meets the enigmatic Lieutenant Byron Sully and has to make the first of many choices - settle for what her mother deems a 'good match'...or risk everything for love. Don't worry, Colorado Springs does come into play later in the story.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story is dedicated to my sweet friend Adriana. Without her urging, and picking screen caps for me to write about, this story would never have happened. I had only intended it to be like a glorified challenge piece, maybe 3-5,000 words, but it took on a life of its own, haha. :D_

**MICHAELA'S CHOICE**

By Linda Ellen

August 2012

_Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman (but those people aren't using them anyway!)_

**PROLOGUE**

_Summer, 1867, Ft. Lowell, Arizona_

Michaela paced the floor of her quarters and stopped again at the window that overlooked the fort's interior, wrapping a knitted shawl tighter around her body though the temperature was warm. The window was open, and the night air only served to inflict shivers upon her nervous form.

"There, there, dear," crooned the Colonel's wife, the portly, silver haired Mrs. Davenport, as she tried once again to console her. "Come away from the window and sit down. Have a nice cup of tea and tell me about the place settings you've chosen for your wedding. Your young man will be back any minute, you'll see," she added, patting the space next to her on the worn davenport.

Michaela shook her head. Truthfully, she wished the older woman would just leave her alone, as her incessant babbling was beginning to wear on her nerves. The woman didn't seem to have an ounce of common sense in her head!

"He's fine, I'm sure. The patrol will find him," Captain Hayward's wife, Audrey, soothed. She was what some call a 'handsome' woman...not plain but not pretty either. "Why, just six months ago, Phillip went missing for two days, and the patrol found him miles away, walking. He'd had to shoot his poor horse after he stumbled and broke his foreleg."

Michaela nodded and sniffed, delicately touching an embroidered hanky to her nose. "I'm sure he's fine," she dutifully answered, sending what she hoped was a grateful smile to the other women. Her own words felt hollow and without meaning, however, as deep down in her soul, she could feel that something was dreadfully wrong.

Michaela Quinn of Beacon Hill, the beautiful and respected daughter and medical partner of Dr. Josef Quinn, until his death, had stubbornly followed her fiancé, David Lewis, when he joined the army. At thirty-five, Michaela had almost resigned herself to live out her life as an 'old maid' when no beaus were seen darkening her doorstep, before _or_ after she returned from medical college. They all thought her too...smart, always acting as if she 'knew all the answers'. She unintentionally intimidated them, not realizing that men need to be...well, _needed_.

All but David.

Dr. David Lewis had decided he wanted the beautiful Michaela the moment he first saw her...although it wasn't quite like that for the lady herself. At first, she wasn't the least bit interested, even thinking him way too tall to be her match. But David had been persistent and over the course of several months had finally persuaded her to allow him to court her. He formally asked for her hand in marriage, first asking her father and mother, and the new couple had been given an elaborate engagement party, at which David had recited Robert Burns...

_O my love is like a red, red rose,_

_That's newly sprung in June;_

_O my love is like the melody_

_That's sweetly played in tune._

_As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,_

_So deep in love am I:_

_And I will love thee still, my dear,_

_Till a' the seas gang dry._

It was a pleasant memory. David's delivery had been flawless.

Michaela figured she was now set, her course in life clear. She would be a doctor's wife and they would work together much the way she had with her father – only with David she would be obligated to perform the wifely duty. No matter. She was sure she would get used to that. Her mother had already given her tips on what to do, how to stare at the ceiling or count the flowers in the wallpaper until he was finished. She did care for him, and he seemed attentive to her feelings. He stimulated her intelligence, and he seemed to truly respect her as a physician. And he wasn't unattractive. It would be a 'good match' as her mother frequently reminded her, thoroughly pleased that her youngest daughter was finally going to be married.

Planning her wedding with her mother and sisters, and looking for a home in upscale Beacon Hill in which she and her intended would settle and set up their practice had made Michaela feel content and happy, confident she had made the right choice. She was completely shocked, therefore, when he came to dinner one night and announced that he would be leaving in two days to join the army as a commissioned officer. He explained that the soldiers fighting Indians out west were suffering appalling medical care and he felt impressed to go and serve.

Two days!

Those two days flew by and he was gone. _Just like that._

Once again, she was alone. Her father gone, their patients gone, and now her fiancé, she felt bereft and quite without purpose. The thought of spending her days volunteering at the poor house where she had completed her residency did not appeal to her, nor did being essentially a glorified nurse at the hospital.

Michaela was not a woman who was content to sit around and wait for her man. Therefore, after several weeks of boring idleness, she insisted that she could be of help to him if she were to join him, having of course heard about the military's shortage of doctors during the war. David's father, a man not without influence, managed to pull some strings and Michaela was granted permission to join her fiancé once he was stationed at Ft. Lowell in the Arizona territory.

Her mother and sisters had virulently objected and tried their best to dissuade her, and nearly managed to, but she was determined – and so she went. As the train had pulled out of Boston's Central Station however, she fleetingly wondered if she had made the right choice, but being _Michaela_, she had stubbornly set her face forward and concentrated on the future.

That was three months ago. Now, David had been missing two full days, having gone to a stagecoach relay station thirty miles to the northeast in response to an emergency plea for a doctor. Michaela had begged to go with him as his assistant, but he had steadfastly refused.

Although he had not traveled alone, but in the company of another soldier, her stomach churned as she thought of all the possibilities that could happen out there in such a wild land.

But truth be told...something else plagued her more. _He_ had been sent with a detachment of soldiers to find David.

_Lieutenant_ _Byron Sully_.

Staring out the window of her quarters, she could just make out the gates of the fort and the sentries patrolling along the top of the wall. Looking past this, her eyes sought out the moon, now covered by wispy clouds, the light making them appear a soft blue. Blue..._like his eyes_...

Swallowing her nervousness, Michaela was thankful that the other ladies couldn't hear her thoughts as she cast a glance over her shoulder. In truth, she was ashamed of herself, for though she was worried for her fiancé's safety...she was more concerned about _his_.

Closing her eyes, she allowed her mind to wander back to when she had first arrived at the fort...

**PART ONE: ARIZONA**

CHAPTER 1

It had taken seven days by rail, followed by a six-day layover in St. Louis...then eight days in one stagecoach after another to reach the far positioned fort, with the nights being spent at relay station after relay station. Many times, Michaela thought they would never reach their destination, her mother's dire warnings of extreme conditions, outlaws, wild Indians, and potential accidents repeatedly playing unsolicited in her mind.

The last stage had deposited her in the tiny town of Bowie, near Fort Bowie, and after a long, hot, six-day wait, she was transported the last thirty miles in a covered wagon with a three-man escort from the closer fort. They spent two nights in route.

The soldiers treated her with chilly respect, though kept a decided distance, none of them offering to engage in friendly conversation, but merely acted as stern, disciplined troopers. More than once, she questioned her choice and wondered if she had acted in haste. "_Oh well, be that as it may. The only thing for it is to make the best of the situation,"_ she encouraged herself quite often_._

The commander of this excursion, Sergeant O'Connor - a decidedly distasteful man - showed no hesitancy in letting his feelings be known. He mumbled repeatedly that a military fort was no place for an unmarried woman, and that they had more important things to do than transport a captain's fiancée across Indian Territory. Resenting the fact that he had been chosen for the assignment, he groused silently that he would much rather be out killing no-good dirty renegades! Time and again he made the point of muttering that she should have stayed in Boston and waited for her fiancé's return. His mood only darkened as the hours and miles rolled on.

Needless to say, Michaela avoided trying to make polite conversation with _him, _and after the first few miles had retreated inside the stuffy wagon to try and pass the time by reading medical journals, though the vehicle jostled and bumped so vigorously, even that was difficult. She wondered occasionally if the sergeant purposely hit every rock, clump of brush, and chuck hole he could find.

Finally, the last day arrived. Having chosen that morning to sit up front and escape the hot interior of the wagon for the last short leg of the trip, Michaela wondered yet again why her fiancé had not arranged to meet her _himself_. But truthfully, as Fort Lowell came into view, she was just glad to finally have arrived at her destination.

To say the least, the trip had been sorely lacking in the amenities. Her light blue dress, which had been pristine that morning when she donned it, was now covered in dust, her corset and underclothes sticking uncomfortably to her perspiring body. Making a futile attempt at brushing herself clean as they pulled to a stop inside the walled garrison, she paused when she heard a familiar and at least welcoming voice.

"Michaela! My darling, you're finally here!"

She turned her head to see her fiancé approaching the base of the wagon, staring up at her expectantly. He grinned his most charming smile when he saw he had her attention, offering his hands to help her down. She leaned toward him, allowing him to lift her bodily from the wagon and set her on the ground, which she immediately noticed was a sea of mud.

"Oh, I apologize. This is the rainy season here and we just had one of those swift thunderstorms – I'm sure you must have seen the clouds," he explained. She nodded, remembering the dark clouds in the distance that morning. "It rained cats and dogs for about half an hour, must have dumped four inches of rain," he chuckled as Michaela tried to gingerly pick her way to the nearest porch. It didn't occur to him to carry her. He turned his head and directed the soldiers that had accompanied the wagon to bring Michaela's things.

Just then, several other soldiers and two women approached from the other side of the garrison, including one officer with a plethora of medals and decorations on his uniform.

Noticing them, David suddenly let go of her hand and crisply saluted his superior officer. Michaela, not expecting this, took an unsupported step and instantly slipped face down in the mud.

David turned his head and stared down at his fiancée sprawled in the mire at his feet, his mouth agape. For a moment he totally forgot basic manners, so stunned was he by the spectacle.

Quick as a flash, one of the approaching officers noticed the captain's lapse and moved forward, extending both hands and helping the lovely woman up from the muck. She had managed to struggle to her knees. Looking gratefully at the hands offering assistance, and assuming they were David's, she placed hers within.

As their hands touched, both felt tingling sparks and as one, drew in a surprised gasp. He helped her upright, standing with her in the midst of the mud, firmly steadying her as she struggled to regain her footing. "Thank you," she whispered as she raised her head and their eyes met...and held. Time seemed to stop...

Michaela had never seen a man with such beautiful eyes in her life. They were intelligent, kind, confident, a vivid cornflower blue, and were like a pair of strong magnets, pulling her toward them. She was nearly powerless to resist the pull. Hazily, she somehow observed the man's tanned face, wavy brown hair – surprisingly long for a commissioned officer, full kissable lips, and proud chin. Her mind went blank, totally forgetting the presence of her fiancé, much less the other people, as she continued to stare, transfixed.

He meanwhile stared down into the most beautiful and unusual pair of eyes he had ever seen. They were literally two different colors – a warm chestnut brown and a soft fern green. _How is that possible?_ His gaze, though held firm by her eyes, still managed to register the peaches and cream softness of her face despite the smudges of mud, the delicate arch of her eyebrows, the lovely brown hair done up in a becoming bun, the smart hat with the tiny flowers, and the wide and very kissable lips, now parted in surprise. He felt his heart fairly leaping within his chest, as he stood, immobile.

After a few awkward moments David stepped forward, gingerly edging around the muck and taking hold of her arm, breaking the spell.

"Michaela...I want to introduce you to my commanding officer, Colonel Davenport. Colonel Davenport, this is my fiancée, Michaela Quinn – of the Boston Quinn's," David added with undisguised pride.

"Miss Quinn, welcome to Fort Lowell," the kind, silver-haired officer smiled, extending a hand in greeting.

Mentally shaking herself loose from the mesmerizing pull of the first man's touch, which she silently vowed to ponder at a later time, Michaela turned fully toward the colonel.

Extending her hand politely, she murmured with a smile, "Colonel...and its _Dr._ Quinn," only realizing she had deposited mud on his hand after he awkwardly glanced down at it. He reached for his handkerchief to wipe it clean.

"Oh, pardon me," she gasped, quickly removing the offending lace gloves, which were now hopelessly soiled.

"That's quite alright, young lady. Everyone takes a spill now and then," he returned with a chuckle. "I dare say I've done that myself!"

Further introductions were made, including the Colonel's wife, a Captain Hayward and his wife Audrey, and a Sergeant Lowe. The ladies clucked and fussed in sympathy over Michaela's now ruined dress.

Finally, almost grudgingly, David turned to the man who had helped her out of the mud, having of course observed their interaction.

"And this is Lieutenant Sully. Lieutenant, this is my _fiancée_, Dr. Quinn," he stated formally.

Michaela turned again toward the man and smiled a trifle self-consciously. Out of the corner of her eye, she had noticed him take off his neckerchief and clean the mud from his hands, and had felt his unwavering stare trained on her throughout the other introductions. Now hesitantly holding out a hand, she wondered if she would feel the same sensation as before.

"Lieutenant..."

"Dr. Quinn..." he murmured, hesitating for just a moment before taking her hand in his. Once again, that strange tingling awareness assailed them both, but this time they restrained themselves from reacting. Each, however, was somehow cognizant of the fact that the _other_ was definitely feeling the phenomenon. It fairly twinkled in their eyes. She felt herself blush from its intensity – and from his knowing gaze.

David, silently bristling with jealousy over the obvious physical attraction his intended seemed to be experiencing with another man, suddenly bustled forward and once again took possession of her arm.

"Come my dear, I'm sure you are exhausted after your long journey. No doubt you will wish to freshen up and perhaps lie down for a bit to rest before dinner..."

The group followed the two as David steered Michaela toward her quarters; the other ladies striking up simultaneous conversations, each one effervescent over the fact that another woman had joined their circle.

When they were out of earshot, Sergeant O'Connor grunted, "Glad _that's_ over. Stupid Eastern females insistin' on comin' to an army fort, 'spectin' to be catered to like we ain't got nothin' better to do than step 'n fetch for 'em."

Sully turned and met the sergeant's eyes, his own clearly disagreeing with the man's assessment of the soft-spoken lady doctor's personality and intentions.

The sergeant muttered something unintelligible and turned the wagon around for the thirty-mile trip back to his post, snapping orders to his fellow troopers to get a move-on and ignoring their requests to be allowed to rest and get refreshment first. Finishing up with removing the last of Michaela's things from the wagon, the men glanced at each other with resigned sighs, mounted, and maneuvered into position next to the wagon as it lumbered out the gate, its large wheels squishing through the sticky mud.

Lieutenant Sully turned back and stood there broodingly watching the lovely woman walking away.

His left thumb unconsciously caressed the palm of his right hand, which still bore faint traces of the tingles her touch had left behind.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Michaela began at once to settle in to her new home-away-from-home, placing her pictures and knick-knacks around. She quickly acclimated to life in a military fort – which consisted of rising at the same time every morning startled awake by the incessant bugle...eating meals at precisely the same time each day...going to bed at exactly the same time each night, soothed by the soft, melodious rendering of Taps by that same bugle...and spending her days strictly chaperoned by an assortment of uniformed men.

Originally she had thought that by going there to be with David on post, she would naturally be his assistant during medical procedures – and perhaps even be allowed to care for the lesser cases by herself. Her mother had told her that was ridiculous, but she had insisted. She soon learned that was out of the question, as Army rules strictly forbade it. So she was stuck, whiling away the hours waiting for evening to come when David would be finished with his duties for the day. She had even taken up needlepoint, for heaven's sake!

And of course, she was forced into the daily company of the other three women on post. Amelia, the colonel's wife, Audrey, Captain Hayward's wife, and Mary, Major Bradford's quiet, unassuming spouse. The rest of the officers and enlisted men were either unmarried or their wives were waiting back home, wherever 'home' happened to be.

Many times she questioned her decision to join her fiancé, even admitting to herself that for once her mother had been right when she argued profusely that an army post was no place for a lady.

Michaela found that she couldn't go anywhere, except the officer's outhouse, by herself – she was always accompanied. She wasn't allowed to step foot outside the gates without an armed escort, despite the fact that the fort was situated in such a way that one could see a rider or anyone coming for miles. There wasn't even a bush or a good-sized rock to hide behind.

During the first few weeks, several different soldiers had been assigned to "Beauty Duty," as serving as her escort was secretly called among the ranks. She had learned their names and become friends with each of them, but especially...the handsome lieutenant who had helped her out of the mud that first day.

She found him quiet, a man of few words. But when he spoke, people tended to listen, and the men under his command seemed to adore him. He politely and respectfully kept his distance, seeming to specifically avoid any chance of touching her again. He hovered near, however, always at the ready in case of trouble, especially if they rode together outside the gates.

The privilege of actually going for a ride outside had been hard won, but she had managed to secure permission from the colonel himself, mainly by convincing his wife to lend a voice to her cause. The brief times of riding what had become 'her' horse, a gorgeous chestnut mare she nicknamed "Flash," were the joys that allowed her to keep her sanity. The minute she and the lieutenant exited the gate each morning, they would launch into a top speed gallop to a designated finish, with an equal match of wins versus losses.

Once their race was over, laughing together and out of breath, they would meander side by side in a large diameter around the garrison, talking in comfortable camaraderie. She found herself telling the lieutenant things about her girlhood and life in Boston that she had never told anyone else. He haltingly told her about growing up as an orphan in New York City. She told him of her days at the Pennsylvania Women's Medical College and of her friend Miriam and their somewhat mild exploits. He told her of his days on the docks of New York and then working his way across the country, and of his best friend Daniel and the adventures they had enjoyed together.

The few times the lieutenant had been called away on assignments and she was accompanied by another soldier greatly lessened her enjoyment for the outings. She found she thoroughly enjoyed the lieutenant's company.

They settled into such a familiar, easy rapport, that Michaela found herself telling him of her frustrations at not being taken seriously as a doctor, though she had been first in her class and had performed many successful surgeries, and was excellent at diagnosing disease. She admitted to him her angst regarding the opinions of the colonel and the other officers at the fort when she had suggested she be allowed to help David attend to medical emergencies, such as immediately after she arrived, when over half of the garrison came down with dysentery due to their water supply being contaminated.

During these times, the lieutenant volunteered little about himself and his own angst or frustrations, but was content to just be her sounding board and confidant, occasionally offering sympathy or an objective view that helped soothe her ruffled feelings.

On one such ride, after she had been at the fort four weeks, Lieutenant Sully dutifully by her side, Michaela found herself in an unusually inquisitive mood.

"Lieutenant?" she spoke softly to him as his stallion tossed his head and nickered at Flash.

"Yes Ma'am?" he automatically replied.

"I feel awkward always calling you _Lieutenant._ Might I know your first name, that I may call you that when we are alone like this?" she questioned gently, turning her head to stare at him in expectation.

His eyes widened for a moment and turned to meet her gaze as he thought the proposition over. Then swallowing uncomfortably, he shook his head, answering simply, "I hate my first name. Mostly I just go by _Sully_."

Now she was intrigued. Turning further in the saddle as they maneuvered around the invisible trail that kept them within sight of the fort – the boundary the Lieutenant had laid out on their first excursion – she perused the side of his face with its stoic expression. Her eyes took in the long wavy hair blowing in the hot breeze, the tanned face and hands, and the way in which he sat so straight in the saddle, so comfortable and sure.

"It couldn't be _that_ bad, Lieutenant..." she coaxed with a half smile. _What could it be? Eustis? Ezra? Percival? _

"Trust me, it _is_."

She continued to stare at him until he finally weakened and turned to meet her gaze.

"Please? I promise not to laugh."

He started to shake his head, but the pleading look in her eyes was his undoing. Swallowing nervously again, he silently acknowledged that this woman could talk him into anything; she seemed to have such power over him. He quickly thanked the heavens that she was of decent moral quality. Over the weeks, being alone with her everyday, she had definitely gotten under his skin. He squirmed in his saddle as those words crossed his mind.

Drawing in a deep breath, he murmured, "Byron."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, having been unable to make out the name he had spoken so softly.

Flashing her a look of slight aggravation, he huffed a sigh and answered a little louder, "_Byron_," with a slight roll of his eyes.

Michaela smiled at this, trying the name out herself. "_Byron Sully_. I _like_ it."

At this, he reacted with a 'Pfff' of his breath and flashed her another look as he maneuvered his horse around a rock. "Yeah right."

"No, I _do_, truly!" she insisted. "I've always been partial to the name, actually. Lord Byron is one of my favorite poets."

He glanced back at her again to search her eyes and see if she was telling the truth or playing with him. The look in her eyes said the former.

"Yeah? That's what my Ma used to say," he offered softly.

"Your mother enjoyed Lord Byron?" she asked interestedly.

"Yeah...she used to read poetry to my brother and me sometimes..." he began, the hint of a smile gracing his features as he allowed his mind a short foray into the past. "Her favorite was _She Walks in Beauty." _

Tilting his head back and closing his eyes, the words came flowing back to his mind and from his lips...

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

He paused and opened his eyes, glancing across the space between their horses to see her watching him in rapt attention. The line 'All that's best of dark and bright meet...in her eyes' seemed a perfect way to describe what he felt when he gazed into her lovely two-toned eyes. The thought made him draw in a breath.

She watched him closely, very interested in another aspect to her handsome escort's enigmatic personality, and smiled when his eyes met hers. Tilting her chin, she took up where he left off...

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o'er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

Now _she_ paused, the words 'every raven tress' conjuring up a picture of a raven-haired young woman smiling and laughing with him. As she watched the picture forming in her mind, she saw the young woman laugh and lean to give the lieutenant a kiss, which he accepted and readily returned. The feelings the vision engendered made her gasp softly.

He watched every nuance of her expression as she recited a stanza of the beautiful poem hanging on every word more than he ever had when his mother used to read them. Taking advantage of her pause, he finished...

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

The poem finished, they held each other's gaze for several moments, each thinking of the deeper meanings in the words and how they can so easily be applied to real life.

Then his thoughts switched to a memory that caused a touch of sadness to briefly cloud his features. Before Michaela could question this, he decidedly changed the subject.

"So, when is the big day...for you and the captain?"

She maneuvered Flash around a large chuckhole. "The wedding is set for September," she added quietly, casting him a sideways glance.

The news somehow struck a blow to Sully's heart, which was ridiculous, but somehow knowing the actual date of the nuptials made it seem more real...more certain.

"So...how come you came all the way out here, before you were married?" he questioned, blanching as he realized what a personal question it was.

She glanced at him and shrugged fatalistically. "My father was a doctor and for seven years after I graduated medical school, I was his partner in his practice."

"Was?" he asked softly, watching her face.

She nodded and pulled Flash to a halt, shaking her head to allow the warm breeze to fluff her hair. Little did she know the action made Sully ache to run his fingers through the long tresses.

"He...my father...passed away eight months ago," she finally answered, staring out at the flat arid landscape.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly.

"Thank you," she whispered, drawing in a deep breath to try and stave off the tears that would usually come when she thought of her beloved father.

Sully waited in quiet respect, allowing her to regroup.

"One by one, my patients..._his_ patients...moved on to other doctors until I had none at all. That was when David and I began to plan that he would resign from his position at Massachusetts General and open a joint practice for the two of us," she paused in remembrance. "But then, before it could materialize, he came to dinner one night and announced he was leaving in two days to join the army," she admitted with quiet anger.

"_Two days_?" Sully automatically responded, thinking what a jerk the Captain had been toward his beautiful fiancée.

"Two days," Michaela nodded, her eyes meeting her companion's. In the depths of those eyes at that moment, she saw so many things – one, that _he_ would never do such a thing to the woman he loved – two, that he would stay with the woman he asked to be his wife and not 'run off' in response to some hasty decision. Somehow she knew if this man fell in love, he would leave no doubt in the woman's mind that his heart belonged totally to her. That he would put her needs and desires first, before his own. She also saw within their azure blue depths a passion that burned hotly. The thought made her pulse quicken, and she realized David never had that effect on her.

_That_ thought made her cringe with shame. She shouldn't be having such musings about another man when her fiancé, the man with whom she would someday join in holy matrimony, was a mere one thousand yards away, hard at work – and totally unaware.

But _Sully_...somehow she felt she connected with him on a deep, unseen level, and in a way she had never experienced before with any man – or woman for that matter. It was as if, when she looked into his eyes, he understood her thoughts and motives without her having to utter one word. The realization was almost staggering. What did this mean? She should feel this way about _David!_ She owed that much to him...didn't she? Turning her gaze from the man at her side, her eyes dropped to the ring on her left hand. The sparkling diamond engagement ring David had placed on her finger.

Sully studied the lovely woman at his side, sitting so confidently, yet so gracefully, astride the mare. She was breathtaking. Her hair cascaded down her back in lustrous waves, shining in the sun like dark copper. He wondered for a moment if she knew how lovely she was. She didn't seem to. She seemed totally unaffected by the stares and whispers of the others at the fort. And she didn't 'put on airs' like some of the women he had encountered at military balls since he had joined the army two years before.

He tried to imagine the sweet, lovely Michaela, which he called her in his mind, _but never aloud_, married to Captain Lewis. Since her arrival, he had taken notice of the captain's attitude toward his fiancée. Though he displayed a certain affection for her, there seemed to be something missing. It was as if...as if he felt more pride in being engaged to the lovely Michaela Quinn 'of the Boston Quinn's' than true love. And he had never once heard the captain say he loved his fiancée. Of course, Sully wasn't with them every moment, but still, you would think if Captain Lewis truly felt that emotion, it would just slip out on its own, no matter who may be listening.

For a moment, Sully imagined himself in the place of the captain, and he knew without a doubt he would think of her every second and be chomping at the bit to finish his duties every day so he could be with her. The captain didn't seem to feel that way. Sully had observed him time and again carrying on long conversations with the other officers, telling jokes, wasting time as it were, while Michaela cooled her heels waiting for him in her quarters. Something just didn't add up.

_Well, no matter,_ Sully sighed inwardly. _She's out of my league anyway_. He knew she was from the elite of Boston society and he knew they had 'rules' to go by. She would never, _could_ never, be interested in someone like him – he didn't even have a 'home' from which he came. No pedigree. No blue blood. No, his blood was good old Yankee red.

Just then, Sully heard the distinctive sound of the bugle calling everyone not on watch to the mess hall for the noon meal.

Glancing at his companion and seeing she heard it too, he murmured, "We best get back."

With a nod, she nudged Flash forward and they completed the trip back inside the gates of the fort in thoughtful silence.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

The next morning, Michaela once again requested a ride outside the gates. The corporal in charge of the horses sent his assistant, Private Jones, to get the lieutenant as he set about saddling the chestnut mare. No longer did they go through channels, waiting to see who would be assigned to accompany her – it was just taken for granted that Lieutenant Sully would get the assignment. It seemed he was always with her. _Heck, he spends more time with her than her own fiancé. _ The corporal stopped that thought before it could go any farther, out of respect for his superior as well as for the lady, as he had never seen any impropriety between them.

When she came out several minutes later, David met her in front of her quarters.

"Oh, going riding, darling?" he asked with a solicitous smile.

"Yes, it seems to be what I enjoy most these days," Michaela instantly retorted, unaware of the slight edge to her voice.

David noticed and immediately went on the defense. "I'm _sorry_ I've been so busy since you arrived, Michaela...but I did warn you that I wouldn't have time to jump at your every beck and call..."

Michaela's eyes flashed at that, since she had made sure she wasn't putting undue pressure on him to 'entertain' her. "I know that, David." Then before she could stop herself, she added, "But it does seem to me that you could spend less time idly chatting with your fellow officers, and more time in the evenings with _me_."

David's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing, checking up on me?"

"No, of course not," she quickly assured. "I just...heard someone mention it, that's all."

His eyes narrowed even further. "Who?"

Casting around for what she could say to that, not wishing to get the private who had confided in her in any trouble, she murmured, "I don't remember."

Just then, Sully came around the corner, stopping short when he saw the captain and his fiancée speaking in front of her quarters. On closer inspection, he clarified in his mind, 'speaking _heatedly_' in front of her quarters. As he watched, he saw the captain raise a finger up to her face, obviously perturbed at their conversation. Michaela instantly leaned back a bit, away from him and his indignation.

At that moment, a huge surge of protectiveness rose inside of Sully and flared into a blinding light as all of his muscles tensed. It took everything he had, all of his military training, to stop from rushing to her defense. But the man did outrank him _and_ was her fiancé. Unconsciously, Sully's hands curled into fists at his sides as he waited for the captain to walk on.

When he finally did, with Michaela looking after him thoughtfully, Sully quickly strode up to her, carefully touching the material of her sleeve to get her attention.

"Ready to go?" he asked gently.

Still smarting from the 'dressing down' David had just subjected her to; she turned her head and looked into his eyes, thinking once again how special they were. She'd seen blue eyes before – _David_ had blue eyes – but there was something mesmerizing about Sully's...perhaps it was his gentleness, the way he seemed to care about her feelings...

She stopped herself from thinking any further on that subject and nodded in answer to his query. "Yes, I am, thank you."

With a smile, he swept a hand toward the corral for her to precede him, and followed behind her, surreptitiously watching the gentle sway of her hips under her riding skirt.

Before long they were meandering along the now familiar path, riding side by side in comfortable companionship, after giving the horses a good exercise with several minutes of their customary race at full gallop – which he won that day.

Michaela took off the small, smart hat she had donned and used it to fan her face.

"You hot?" Sully observed, determinedly steering his mind clear of any extraneous thoughts that word might conjure up.

"Yes, a little. But I'll be fine in a moment," she added demurely.

Sully nodded and trained his eyes on their surroundings, ever watchful for any type of danger. His hand slipped to the gun at his side, adjusting its holster more comfortably against his thigh. Michaela watched his movements, wondering if he was as good with that gun as he was with everything else. Well...everything else that she _knew_ at this point, she corrected silently.

After a few minutes, she reached up to pin the hat in place again. Sully's eyes swept from side to side, then over at his companion. Before he could stop himself, he asked, "You and Cap'n Lewis have a fight this mornin'?"

Michaela's eyes momentarily widened, as she hadn't realized anyone had observed their heated exchange.

"Not a fight...more of a...um..." she hedged, unable to think of a word.

"Looked like you were fightin' to me. At least..._he_ looked angry," he added, not mentioning his own feelings at the time.

"He, um...I accused him of not spending as much time with me as he could, and he accused me of checking up on him," she admitted, though not elaborating on the angry tone in her fiancé s voice when he had poked a finger at her face and told her she didn't 'own' him since they weren't married yet, and that he could _idly chat_ with the other officers if he so chose – and for as _long_ as he chose.

"Well...it's _true_, he _should_ spend more time with ya..." Sully contributed, flashing an uncomfortable glance in her direction, wishing he outranked the captain so he could give the cad a good dressing down.

Michaela shot a glance at him, her mouth curling up in that half smile Sully had already learned to cherish. "Thank you...Sully."

"You're welcome," he murmured just above a whisper, silently adoring the way his named rolled so easily off her lips.

Their eyes met and she pondered the easy rapport between her and the lieutenant. It seemed as if they had known each other their whole lives. Once again, she contemplated what that could mean...

But before either of them could say another word, they heard the unmistakable nerve jarring sound of a rattlesnake directly to the right of Michaela's horse. Instantly, Flash reared in fear.

Her hands off the reins as she had still been in the act of adjusting her hat, Michaela screamed in fright and clawed desperately at the saddle horn, barely keeping her seat. Flash's hooves crashed down to the ground and took off at a fast gallop directly away from the fort, with Michaela hanging on for dear life.

"Sully!" she screamed in reflex, knowing he was right behind her, she could hear his horses' hooves thundering on the hard ground.

"Hang on!" she heard him yell, above the sound of the horses and of her own pounding heart. In pure reaction, she screamed out in fear for her life, which only served to frighten the filly even more.

The horses kept up their frantic pace, putting more and more distance between them and the fort as Sully gave it his all to catch the fleeing animal and her frightened passenger.

The ground rushing by beneath her mount appeared as nothing but a blur. As a doctor, Michaela knew if she were to fall off and hit the ground at that speed, it would mean certain catastrophic injury, and perhaps even death. Gripping large handfuls of Flash's mane in both hands, she gasped, "Whoa Flash, whoa..." to no avail.

Finally Sully drew abreast of them. Michaela turned her head slightly, her eyes as wild with fear as the filly's, as she was barely able to stay in the saddle, her feet had flown free of the stirrups. Her eyes screamed to him, "Help me!"

"Come to me!" he yelled and without another thought, both horses in full gallop, he reached over and performed the very difficult task of clamping his arm around her waist and sliding her off of her saddle and over to his, without dislodging them both from his own mount. Her arms clamped around his neck as if she were drowning. As soon as he had hold of her, he allowed Flash to continue her gallop as he immediately reined in his larger stallion, pulling him to a stop.

Shaking in reaction, he lowered Michaela to the ground and threw his leg over the right side of the horse, sliding off and dropping to his knees beside her where she had collapsed.

Extremely traumatized, she looked up at him with no forethought and bleated, "Hold me."

He obeyed without hesitation, pulling her into his arms and nearly onto his lap as he cradled her against his chest. Looking upward, he mouthed a thank you to the heavens that she was safe and unhurt. He felt her shudder with the residual trauma, and then with relieved tears, as he gently rocked her to and fro, softly pressing his lips to the top of her head. Her hat had immediately blown off in the wind and the pins had shaken free leaving her long hair tumbled down her back. He gently smoothed the long tresses, whispering, "You're safe. I've got ya. You're okay."

They stayed thus for several minutes as their heart rates eventually slowed to normal.

"I was so frightened," she finally managed to whisper, her face pressed against the uniform covering his chest. The material hadn't prevented her from hearing the comforting thump, thump of his heart as he held her close.

"I know. Me, too," he admitted in a whisper.

When she could manage, she sat up straight, pushing a lock of her disheveled hair back away from her face. Glancing up into his eyes, she murmured, "Thank you, Sully, for saving me," and leaned forward to press a soft kiss to her rescuer's cheek.

He tried. He really tried to just let it go at that...but the temptation was too great. Overwhelming. All of his emotions rushing to the fore, he turned his head when she began to pull back. As if in slow motion, he leaned in, their eyes fluttering closed as he pressed his lips to hers for the briefest touch. But it was enough. At that instant, their relationship changed, deepened, expanded...

Michaela pulled back as if in a daze, gazing up into her handsome escort's eyes, and wondering if she was dreaming. She was filled with a strange mixture of euphoria and self-reproach. She knew she should rebuke him for taking such liberties, she was engaged to be married to another man! But...Sully's kiss had felt so magical, so..._right_. She realized at that moment that she had never felt anything remotely resembling such feelings when David kissed her.

Sully gazed back, his lips curving into a blissful smile. He knew from that moment on, this woman would own him, body, mind, and heart. He knew, also, that he should feel remorse that he had taken advantage of her in a moment of weakness – but he didn't. Never had a kiss felt so enchanting, so...perfect. An old Indian saying rose to his mind and he silently acknowledged its truth. His heart seemed to reverberate in an almost musical hum when he was in her presence.

He knew it now...Michaela Quinn was his _heartsong..._and if she married the captain, his heart would be achingly silent for the rest of his life.

OOOOOO

"What is the meaning of this!?" David barked as the two rode through the gates of the fort an hour later. He had been alerted by a sentry that something happened to his fiancée, a description given to him in full detail of the two of them taking off at a run on their horses, and quickly moving outside of the sentry's sight. Needless to say, he was quite suspicious – for now here they were back again, riding the same horse. However, it hadn't occurred to him to go after them and 'rescue' her.

Michaela looked down at him from her perch across Sully's saddle. Against her rescuer's better judgment, she had insisted that she ride with him, essentially sitting sideways across Sully's thighs, as she didn't feel she had the energy left to ride normally for the long trip back to the garrison.

Quickly, other troopers ran to see what was happening, all of them noticing the intimacy of her position, across Sully's lap, and the location of his arms around her waist and one hip. Sully squirmed a little under their scrutiny and released his hold.

"THIS is Lieutenant Sully bringing me back after saving my life," she stated matter-of-factly, her eyes daring David to make a scene in front of half the post.

Immediately, David back peddled and changed the tone of his voice, reaching up to lift her down from the horse as he flicked his eyes at the man in the saddle, murmuring, "Thank you, Lieutenant, for performing your duty with such perfection."

Sully nodded wordlessly, managing to keep his expression neutral.

Michaela looked up at him once she was on solid ground. "Yes, thank you, Lieutenant Sully. Your performance today was, indeed...perfection," she added softly, the comment taken by all as merely innocent thanks, except for the two people involved. Their eyes held for a moment, Sully unable to utter a word in response, then she turned to go as David, hovering and fussing over her, escorted her to her quarters to lie down to rest after her harrowing ordeal.

Worn out physically and emotionally, Sully nudged his tired horse toward the corral. "Corporal Lance, take two men and go after Miss Quinn's horse. Due east."

"Yes, sir!" the corporal responded, immediately signaling two privates to saddle up and accompany him on the task.

Sully maneuvered his stallion into the corral and dismounted, beginning the task of removing the saddle as he went over every moment of the last few hours...and the fact that he had come to the realization that he was in love with the captain's fiancée. He knew the proper thing to do would be to request another man to be assigned 'Beauty Duty,' but the thought of not being with her each day, even platonically, made his heart sink. He sighed wearily. _What a mess I got myself into..._

Within a few minutes, he looked over to see Captain Lewis heading his way – and he didn't look happy.

Sully swallowed in anticipation of this showdown. He'd been expecting it for some time, and he steeled his mind and expression to one of suitable blank respect toward an officer of higher rank.

When the captain reached him, glancing around to make sure they were alone, he launched right in.

"Lieutenant Sully! I want a word with you!"

"Sir?" Sully responded, his voice and facial features carefully neutral.

"I want to know what happened out there!"

Sully met the slightly taller man's eyes and held them steadily.

"Cap'n sir...we were ridin' along and M...Miss Quinn had let go of her reins to adjust her hat, when a rattler spooked her horse and it took off. She managed to hang on. I gave chase and caught up with 'em, and was able to grab her off the horse and on to mine. After she calmed down, we came right back to the fort, sir," Sully recited in a monotone.

"With her sitting across your saddle, practically in your _lap_?" David growled.

"Sir, that was at her request. She said she didn't have the strength to ride normal," Sully answered truthfully. He had, in fact, urged her to turn in the saddle and face forward, but she refused. He had tried to convince her to sit behind him, or sit on the horse and he would walk, leading it, but she adamantly refused those suggestions, too. Matter of fact, for most of the way, she had sat curled in his arms, her head tucked under his chin; though that was one detail he would leave out in this conversation with her _fiancé_.

"You are supposed to be there to make sure Miss Quinn _doesn't_ get hurt or frightened. You are supposed to _prevent_ mishaps, not be her 'knight in shining armor,' _Lieutenant."_

"Yes, sir," Sully immediately responded. He knew his duty, and the Captain was totally correct.

Then stepping close, David sneered, "I _know_ you're attracted to her, _Lieutenant Sully_. **I've seen the way you've been looking at her!**" He waited for him to deny it, but Sully merely swallowed and met the captain's gaze unflinchingly. Inside he was thinking Captain Lewis had no clue just _how_ attracted he truly was to the beautiful Michaela. It was as if she were a bright lantern and he a helpless moth, drawn to her flame. He only hoped the attraction wouldn't, for him, turn out to be fatal.

"Well?" David persisted, jealous anger fueling fire into his normally dull nature. "Do you _deny_ you find her attractive?"

"With all due respect, sir..._any_ _man_ would," Sully murmured truthfully.

"Is that a fact?" the captain smirked as he took another half step; so close Sully could smell the onions the man had eaten at lunch.

A muscle flexed in Sully's cheek as he clamped his teeth together, two sets of blue eyes silently dueling. This was one part of army life that he found particularly difficult – remaining silent in the face of biting sarcasm from an officer of higher rank. The captain was baiting him on a personal level, but Sully knew if he responded wrongly, the man could use his rank against him. He had to tread softly.

"Yes, sir," he replied, concentrating on not reacting, not allowing himself to imagine the pleasure of flipping the larger man on his back in the dirt and jamming his foot on his neck. _Breathe...breathe..._

"And just what else would _any man_ do in this situation?" David goaded unmercifully.

Sully's mind scrambled for the correct response to that loaded question. "He would...take pains to perform his duty to the utmost, making sure that the lady is watched over and protected at all times, against all comers," he recited.

"While allowing his eyes to roam over her body at will?" the captain murmured jeeringly.

Sully's brow furrowed for a brief second. "No sir."

"Or her beautiful face? Her tiny waist? Her smooth skin?" David jabbed.

"No sir."

"Imagining what parts would be soft...and what parts would be firm to his touch?" David tried once more. Sully's nostrils flared slightly at the images the captain had purposely planted in his mind. His eyes narrowed just a fraction, but he held fast.

"No _sir_!" He repeated, this time with more force.

The captain's eyes bored into Sully's as he searched for any hint of misconduct on his part in the horse incident. But satisfied there was none, he finally moved backward a half step, murmuring menacingly as he raised a hand to jab a finger into Sully's chest to accentuate the words, "See that you perform your duty by the book where she's concerned, _Lieutenant_. Is that _clear_?"

"That's clear, sir," Sully answered, forcing himself to avoid any thought of the kiss he and Michaela had shared, sure it would reflect somewhere in his eyes.

Thankfully it didn't, and the captain backed up out of his face with a nod of satisfaction that he had 'put the lieutenant in his place.'

"Carry on, Lieutenant."

"Yes sir!" Sully responded automatically, lifting his arm in a crisp salute.

David grudgingly returned the gesture and turned on his heel to stride confidently away, sure that he had just properly defended his fiancée's honor.

Sully watched him go, the tiniest hint of an angry smolder darkening the blue of his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

From that day on, Sully made sure he was on his best behavior whenever he was around Michaela. By unspoken mutual consent, neither of them mentioned the kiss, though both thought of it quite often...and dreamed of it.

The first day or two after the snake incident, David played the ardent suitor, but little by little, he eventually slipped back into his normal routine. Michaela wasn't sure what to think or do about the situation. She knew, feeling as she did now about the man she was engaged to marry...and the man who spent his time guarding her...she should probably break things off with David and go back to Boston.

But...she _couldn't_. The thought of never seeing Sully again filled her with such angst, she just couldn't leave. But on the other hand, the thought of marrying David, and having to be intimate with him filled her with just as much dread. At best, sex with him would have been just a wifely duty. Now...she would be thinking of another man during the deed. She would be committing emotional adultery!

All of this went so against the grain for Michaela. Dishonesty revolted her and she had never been one to purposely be deceptive. Her conscience clawed at her day and night to 'do the right thing' by David and break it off with him. Yet, every day she came up with one more excuse, postponing the inevitable. Truthfully, she didn't want to hurt or embarrass him, as would surely happen should she publicly break their engagement and arrange her passage home.

"Oh, what am I to _do_?" she would groan softly, wishing a dozen times a day that she could talk to her sister Rebecca about the problem. She even sat down to write her sister a letter half a dozen times, but tore each missive in tiny pieces before it was halfway complete. This just wasn't something she could confide in a one-dimensional letter, as on paper, the details made her seem almost wicked. If ever she was in need of her wise older sister's advice, it was now...

As for Sully, he felt just as twisted about the whole thing as Michaela. The thought of her marrying Captain Lewis...giving her virginity to him...allowing him full access to her body anytime he desired, filled Sully with such a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he could barely stand it. They had never discussed such a thing – that Michaela was still innocent...but somehow he just _knew_. More than anything, he wanted to be the only man in Michaela Quinn's life. He wanted to be the one to introduce her to the magic, the sensual pleasures of physical love. Every day, he yearned for her to break off her engagement with the captain.

But on the other hand, he dreaded that almost as much. If she broke it off with him...she would go back to Boston and probably marry some other rich doctor who was well positioned in society. He would never see her again...never catch the scent of her perfume as they rode together in the mornings...never watch her from afar, loving everything about her...never see how her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the stubborn look she could get when one of the officers took her comments as the prattle of an empty headed woman.

Sully knew she was anything _but _empty headed. She could hold her own in just about any conversation. He had witnessed that as she launched into topics of discussion with the colonel and the majors during several different dinners. "Pardon me, Major, but I disagree..." she would begin, and then politely state her opinion of the matter. Her knowledge of world events and other subjects, not to mention medicine, amazed him...and was another nail in the coffin that constantly convinced him she was way out of his league. She was like an exquisite, lustrous diamond while he was no better than fool's gold. There was no comparison.

All he could do was admire her from afar...and very carefully. Since the incident with the horses, Captain Lewis kept him under close surveillance. Sully also suspected that the captain had enlisted the help of one or two of the other men to keep him abreast of any 'misconduct' on Sully's part. He had to be constantly on guard – and he couldn't let Michaela find out the depth of his feelings.

One particular Saturday morning, however, everything came to a head.

Michaela woke up to find it raining – a virtual monsoon – making it impossible for her to take her morning ride with Sully. The realization knocked her off balance for a moment, but she went about her morning ablutions anyway, and made her way down to the mess hall for breakfast, dodging raindrops.

Glancing around, she didn't see David anywhere, and breakfast was usually one of the only times she saw him during the day, unless he graced her with his presence in the evening.

Walking over to the colonel's table, she greeted him and his wife good morning and casually asked the whereabouts of her fiancé.

"There was some Indian trouble near Ft. Defiance. He was summoned during the night to help their surgeon with the wounded," the colonel informed her, in between bites of scrambled egg.

Michaela's eyes grew large for a moment. David hadn't even come to her quarters and told her goodbye before he left on such a dangerous assignment. The next thought occurred to her – _she_ was a surgeon too! She could be of help to the wounded. She could be saving lives...but even as she opened her mouth to state this to the colonel, the look he flashed to her told her he knew what she was thinking. And the answer would have been a resounding NO. She had already fought and lost that battle too many times since she had arrived at the post.

Swallowing her disappointment and aggravation, she sat down and half-heartedly smiled at the private who laid a full plate in front of her. Picking up a fork, she idly pushed at the food, her mind working one hundred miles an hour as she stewed over this latest frustration.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw the mess hall door open and someone walk in. Even without fully looking at him, she knew it was Sully. She turned her head slightly and gave him a careful smile. He returned it with a slight nod before sitting down with his men and beginning his breakfast. His hair was wet from the rain, as he had made a mad dash across the compound from his quarters on the other side. Something about his hair like that seemed extremely sensual and conjured up all sorts of imagined scenarios...Michaela forced herself to look away, fighting a strange stirring inside.

For the next twenty or so minutes, Michaela tried to eat, listening politely to the inane chitchat of the colonel's wife and the sweet encouragement of the major's wife, all the while trying not to allow her attention to stray across the room. Every time she did, however, she was met with that mesmerizing blue gaze and she had to tear her eyes away, silently vowing not to let it happen again.

Finally, breakfast was over and Michaela wiped her hands in preparation for returning to her quarters for a day of needlepoint. _What joy_, she sighed silently.

Before she could stand, however, she noticed someone had approached. Glancing to the side and seeing his highly polished belt buckle and tanned hands, she knew who it was without looking up.

But look up, she did. Meeting his eyes and feeling that tingle she always felt when he was near, she murmured, "Good morning...Lieutenant Sully. How are you this _rainy_ Saturday?"

"Aggravated," was his one word reply.

"Oh? Why is that?" she ventured, striving not to flirt, but something about him pulled at her, made her feel like a feline to his 'tom.'

"'Cause we can't go on our mornin' ride," he murmured softly. Despite his aggravation, his eyes were twinkling as if he had something up his sleeve.

"Yes...now I'm wondering how to pass the time...since David is away at another fort," she returned, although thinking that David being there or gone would make no difference to her day.

"Yeah...I heard about that. So..." he paused, glancing around and finding no one near. "So, I was thinkin'...do you play chess?"

Michaela couldn't help the smile that lit up her face. Did she play chess? She was a chess _champion_. "Yes, I _do_."

Sully drew in a breath at her reaction; glad he had pegged it right. The light on her countenance at that moment almost drove him to distraction, however.

"So...would you like to play?" he asked with an innocent, little boy grin, his dimples in full bloom.

"Yes, very much...but I don't have a chess set here..." she began, smiling when she saw the expression on his face that told her he had one of his own.

"I figure we can set up the board in your quarters...by the front window with the curtain open – you know – for everyone to see what we're doin'," he clarified in case she would panic and back out. But she didn't.

"I think that's an excellent idea, Mr. Sully." Then raising her hand for him to grasp and help her up, she added, "Shall we?"

Within ten minutes, Sully had arrived at her quarters with his chess set, together they had moved the table in front of the window by the door and opened the curtains wide, and settled down to a very competitive game. The monsoon rain was soon forgotten. Correction...the monsoon rain was soon regarded as a blessing!

OOOOOOOOO

They had been playing for over three hours, each one anticipating the other's moves and feeling delightfully challenged. Along with that feeling was their incredible awareness of each other. An electric hum totally unrelated to the thunder and lightning outside, permeated the very air in the room.

Michaela was acutely conscious of every breath Sully took, every move he made, every look, every smile – his manly, earthy scent serving as a very potent distraction as she planned her moves.

She found herself watching him, loving the way he pursed his lips in concentration, his eyes narrowed and darting around the board as he silently pictured the consequences of each available move. She adored the way he would lean to the right, his left hand on his hip, elbow out, the other elbow resting on the arm of his chair as he slouched against the back and absently twirled her last captured pawn in his nimble fingers. Avoiding staring at his smooth, full lips, which only made her remember their magical kiss that day in the desert, her eyes settled on studying his fingers, so long, strong, tanned, and masculine. Try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from imagining those fingers touching her skin. Time and again she shook her head to refocus, nearly blushing at the scandalous thoughts.

Sully was achingly aware of _her_ as well...whiffs of her scented soap nearly drove him crazy...the turn of her head, the way she would move one delicate hand to pick up a chess piece, flashing him an innocent smile when she murmured, "Your play." He could barely concentrate on the match.

Content to just be in the same room with her, he gloried in being able to watch her do something as simple as decide on her next chess move. He loved the way a tiny line formed between her eyebrows as she concentrated, only to smooth out and disappear when she made up her mind. He adored the way she sat, so ladylike, her posture perfect, and the fingers of both hands touching each other, leaning softly against her chin or her lips. Those lips...he couldn't help but steal glances at them, trying hard not to dwell on the memory of their kiss the day he rescued her from certain death.

Michaela was certainly the best chess player Sully had ever been up against – and Sully had proven a competent opponent for Michaela. It was months since she played, and she allowed him to make the aggressive moves at the first, to 'feel him out' and learn his strategy. She planned to pounce later. That thought made her eyes twinkle and he glanced at her, wondering just what she had up her sleeve. The twinkle told him it wouldn't bode well for his game.

Over the weeks he had gotten to know her well enough to recognize that look, and he knew if she so desired, she could render him powerless with one touch...or kiss. He would be like warm clay in her hands...that thought made _his_ eyes twinkle as images filled his head of her hands on his body, holding, squeezing, rubbing..._whoa now, back off, _he silently upbraided his wandering imagination, forcing himself to concentrate.

Taking a small break to place a pot of coffee on the fire, Michaela then wandered near Sully's chair, looking past him and out the window at the rain still coming down in sheets across the compound. Grinning happily, she glanced down at him as he sat just gazing up at her with nearly palpable desire. The look in his eyes, so intense, sent a shiver of fresh awareness up her spine and nearly took her breath away.

Clearing her throat, she ventured, "For a day that started out on a very bleak note, it has turned out to be quite pleasant indeed...because of _you_," she added softly. "I'm sure you must have had other duties...other things you could have been doing. Thank you for spending the time 'entertaining' me."

"My pleasure," he murmured, his voice low, his gaze heated.

The word 'pleasure' and the heat in his eyes made her heart jump and she unconsciously moved a step back from him, one hand fluttering to the collar of her blouse. Her mouth suddenly went dry and she moistened cottony lips with the tip of her tongue. She watched his eyes immediately shift to her mouth, then back up again to meet her gaze. The look reminded her instantly of their kiss out on the desert, and suddenly her breathing became shallow and quick.

Just then, the coffee in the pot began to boil, and she thankfully retreated from his side to tend to the chore.

After a few moments, Michaela brought back two cups of the steaming brew. She handed him one and their fingers touched, their eyes meeting again as he murmured, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she whispered, settling across the table from him again. At that moment, one of the sentries walked by, his rifle at rest across his arms. He looked in the window and smiled and tipped his cap at the two of them, before going on about his business. Sully wondered if he was one of Dr. Lewis' spies, and he was glad they had put the table by the window in plain view.

"Shall we continue?" Michaela asked brightly, her eyebrows rose as she gazed at her opponent.

"Sure," he answered in that clipped way she had come to adore, his eyes twinkling as he sat back in his chair again and sipped his coffee, watching her over the brim.

For the next little while, they played in silence, each stealing surreptitious glances when the other wasn't looking. Only the sound of the rain on the roof and the ticking of the clock on the mantel broke their companionable silence.

As the clock struck once for half past eleven, Sully stretched his arms over his head and released a relaxed sigh. This felt so right...the two of them enjoying a rainy afternoon alone together. He imagined a future filled with many such days and briefly wondered if she thought about that as he stole yet another glance at her face. He couldn't read her expression, but perhaps this would be a good time to try and find out what she had decided, what her plans for the future were...and if there could possibly be, even the slightest chance that he could...that there might be room in her life for...him. _Maybe_...

He put down his cup and took in a breath, gathering his nerve.

Just as he opened his mouth to broach the subject, a knock sounded at the door and Sully got up automatically to answer it, not thinking about the fact that he was in her quarters. The private on the other side of the door showed his surprise for a split second as he stared back at the lieutenant, then quickly cleared his throat and murmured, "Supply wagon got through. Got something for Miss Quinn."

"I'll give it to her," Sully murmured, taking the package from the private and closing the door, practically in his face. The young man shook his head and went on about his business, knowing he'd best keep his mouth shut about this development; the Lieutenant and Miss Quinn alone together in her quarters.

Sully crossed to the table and handed her the package. "Here, looks like it's from Boston."

"Thank you," she murmured as she eagerly took the package and opened it. Inside was a letter from her mother and a copy of the Boston Herald. Glancing at the date, she gave a smirk that it was already a month old. Choosing to read the letter later, she picked up the newspaper and perused the first page to see if there was anything interesting. As Sully stared at the chessboard deciding his next move, Michaela turned the page and couldn't help a gasp escaping her lips. There at the top were her and David's picture with the article heading, _"Captain David Lewis, MD to Wed Dr. Michaela Quinn in September Wedding."_

Sully looked up from the board, noticing the expression on her face.

"What?"

"Oh...nothing," she answered, a little too quickly, turning the page to try and read the next article.

"Don't look like nothin'," he murmured, wondering at the change in her demeanor. After watching her for a few moments chewing on her bottom lip and pointedly not looking at him, he unexpectedly reached over and grasped the paper out of her hands as she gasped in surprise.

"Sully! Give that back," she insisted, leaning forward and grabbing at the item, but he shook his head and leaned back out of her reach as he flipped the page back, his eyes narrowing as he saw the headline and the picture.

His blood went cold and he swallowed dryly. Raising his eyes, he held her gaze for a moment, and then tossed the paper down onto the board, the article there in plain sight for them both to see.

Sully had watched the slow disintegration of the relationship between Captain Lewis and Michaela and he couldn't believe she was actually still thinking of going through with what would be a sham of a marriage! Unable to help himself, he burst out, "You still gonna go through with it?"

Taken aback by the emotion in his voice, she stammered, "I...I'm still considering it, yes."

"So it's _true_?" He asked, incredulous.

"Well...not entirely," she hedged, not sure of what to say, as she wasn't sure yet what she was going to do.

"So it _ain't_ true?" he insisted, leaning forward to search her eyes.

"I didn't say that!"

"So what ARE you sayin'?" he asked, becoming exasperated.

"Well...with David I would have stability...and...besides, I don't want to hurt him," she added softly.

"Stability," he repeated in a flat tone, thinking that was one thing _he_ probably couldn't offer her. He certainly couldn't give her the kind of life he knew she was used to...expensive clothes, jewelry, big houses, servants...

"Yes," she answered, beginning to feel cornered by his accusatory tone.

He searched her eyes again, his a bright piercing blue as his emotions heated up.

"Do you love 'im?"

Her eyes widened at his boldness, to come right out and ask her such a thing! He silently pressed with the force of his eyes alone.

She cast around for an answer, finally settling on, "I did once..."

"Do you _still_?" he pressed, his voice edgy.

"I...I still care for him..."

"Yeah, but - Do – You – _Love 'im_?" he asked relentlessly. This pushed Michaela's buttons, that this too gorgeous man who stirred her passions, but never once told her his own feelings – except for the chaste kiss the day he saved her life – would dare ask such personal questions. Who did he think he was to do such a thing?

"David...David asked me to be his wife...to share his life with him! That's something I don't take lightly," she exclaimed, making an unconscious comparison.

They stared at each other in silence, both breathing faster due to their heightened emotions.

Suddenly feeling like the air was too thick to breathe, Sully pushed back from the table and stood abruptly. The thought of Michaela going ahead with her marriage was too much for him to confront – he needed to escape...to think...to regroup.

Turning, he headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" she cried out, suddenly reversing her anger of a moment ago and wishing to make amends, but not knowing quite how. The man was so quiet – he'd never once told her how he felt. _Feelings_ only count for so much...a woman needs to hear certain things spoken aloud.

Turning with his hand on the knob, he ground out, "If _marriage_ is all you want...you've found the right man." His eyes raking her up and down like cold blue knives, he wrenched the door open and went out, slamming it behind him.

Speechless and alone...bereft...she sat there staring at the space he had just vacated, a feeling of odd foreboding gripping her soul.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The next two weeks went by slowly for Michaela. Sully, out of desperation for his own peace of mind, though she didn't know that, asked to be relieved of his 'Beauty Duty.' Another man, Sergeant O'Connor, the same disagreeable officer that had transported Michaela from Bowie when she first arrived, had been ordered to take Sully's place. O'Connor had recently been transferred to Arizona's southernmost fort and he made no bones about letting those around him know he wasn't pleased. Now, he had been put on an assignment that he considered a thorough waste of his time and talent.

Every morning, Michaela would go riding with the sergeant at her side, but they never exchanged even polite conversation. He was all business, a trooper to his bones. She knew he disapproved of her presence in the garrison, and in military forts in general, as he had indicated this on the ride months earlier. Now, he fairly smoldered as he was forced to be her 'protection.'

As invigorating as the horse rides still were, Michaela certainly didn't look forward to them as she had when Sully accompanied her. The memory of those weeks stayed with her, snippets of their conversations floating back to her consciousness at unexpected times. She missed his company...she missed his friendship. She had never felt such a rapport with anyone before, not even with David. It was as if Sully had become, in that short span of time, her best friend. Now, her life felt bereft without him.

Though she tried hard to hide it, seeing Sully in the mess hall or occasionally walking across the compound on his way to perform some task always caused her to pause. He had not spoken to her since that day in her quarters, and the only acknowledgment of her presence he would give was an occasional smoldering stare. The tension between them would be difficult to explain, however, and she certainly did not want anyone asking about it for fear Sully would be reprimanded for 'offending' her. Getting him in trouble was the last thing she wanted to do.

Little did she know that Sully still felt as drawn to her as ever, but he was fighting against it tooth and nail. That didn't mean, however, that he would overlook a subordinate making any kind of derogatory remark about the woman who had captured his heart.

After the sergeant had been escorting Michaela on her rides every day for two weeks, Sully came into the barracks one morning just in time to overhear him giving his opinion of her to several of the men, all of them snickering like naughty boys.

"Yeah, I bet that lady doc's one fine piece – and I bet the lieutenant got a taste 'a that on some 'a those rides before they gave the job ta me," O'Conner sneered as Sully came to the door. The other men elbowed each other, in truth a little uncomfortable, as none of them had ever seen Michaela do anything improper. "She's give _me_ the eye a coupla times, but I let her know I don't want no used goods..."

"SERGEANT!" Sully bellowed, rage rising up inside him like a volcano.

The troublemaker whipped around with a gulp, knowing he was in for it. He stood rock still as Sully stalked up to him, red faced with anger, eyes blue flames. O'Connor stared down at the slightly shorter man, nose-to-nose, in open defiance.

"Lieutenant..._Sir?"_ he sneered recklessly.

Sully clenched his fists. Already feeling immense frustration, it took everything he had not to rare back and slam that sarcastic sneer off the sergeant's ugly face. A muscle twitched in his jaw as they stared each other down.

Shifting his gaze to the side, Sully surveyed the faces in the room. "Sergeant McKay. You will be escorting Miss Quinn on her rides from now on," he murmured with tight control. When the man didn't instantly move, Sully reiterated, "She's waitin' by the corral, Sergeant."

"Yes, sir," the calm-mannered sergeant responded, giving Sully a quick salute and heading toward the door to obey orders.

Sully's eyes switched back to O'Connor's. "Sergeant, _you_ will spend the day diggin' fresh latrines for the garrison," he murmured in a low, ominous tone, hoping the sergeant would balk at the order. He wasn't disappointed.

"I ain't doin' it," O'Connor sneered quietly, noting the flash of something in Sully's fiery blue eyes. O'Connor's brown eyes narrowed in readiness. The other soldiers glanced at each other wide-eyed.

"You disobeyin' a direct order, Sergeant?" Sully crooned in deceptive calmness.

"Yeah, I am," the man murmured. Then he added purposefully, recklessly wanting to engage in hand to hand with the lieutenant, "And I stand by my opinion 'a that Boston whore, too."

Before anyone could blink, Sully stepped back and grasped the bigger man by the arm, twisting around and flipping him flat on his back, one booted foot instantly pressing on the sergeant's windpipe as he held constant pressure on the man's right arm.

"Don't you EVER talk about the lady like that again, _Sergeant_, or I'll see to it you receive more than the insubordination charges I'm filin' now," Sully warned through gritted teeth, forcing himself to clamp down on his emotions before he allowed himself to break the Sergeant's arm for good measure.

O'Connor wisely remained mute. After a few moments, Sully released him and motioned for him to get up and follow him to the colonel's office, where he did, indeed, file formal charges against the man.

It gave him a good amount of satisfaction when the Sergeant was transferred to another garrison; one that Sully happened to know ran habitually low on supplies and was woefully understaffed.

OOOOOOO

The situation was becoming nearly intolerable. Michaela knew she would have to do something, and soon. She would have to make a choice.

David seemed to be staying away from her even more than before. She realized it was pointless to continue with the engagement, and even quietly made inquiries as to how soon she might arrange passage back to Boston. With Sully making it a point to stay as far away from her as he possibly could, there was certainly no reason to stay on there any longer.

"I don't know what you want from me, Michaela!" David snapped at her one evening when she made the mistake of complaining that she hadn't seen him all day, despite the fact that she knew there had been no medical cases needing his attention. His idea of being engaged seemed so different from hers. Now that he had her promise of her hand in marriage, it was as if he felt he didn't have to 'work' at their relationship at all. She had no way of knowing, of course, that he was bragging to his fellow officers that he had the beautiful Michaela Quinn at his beck and call, and that he was the 'master' of their relationship.

After two weeks of this torture, during breakfast one morning David was summoned to the Colonel's office, returning twenty minutes later to tell her of an assignment. A woman passenger had gone into labor at one of the nearby stage relay stations and a rider had been sent to the fort to ask for their doctor to come. David bid Michaela goodbye, assuring her of his quick return, and left for the station with a one-man escort, a Trooper Maxwell.

However, two full days went by. The first thirty-six hours were passed as a possible difficult delivery for the woman, but not long after that, the two horses came trotting back to the fort on their own, devoid of saddles or saddle blankets. They were identified by their US Army brands.

Colonel Davenport immediately dispatched a patrol of eight men – with Lieutenant Sully in command – to perform a rescue mission, if need be. Michaela had insisted she be allowed to go with them, in case David or anyone else needed medical care, but of course her request was denied.

As the patrol started filing out of the compound through the open gates, Sully paused his horse for a moment next to Michaela. A lace hanky pressed to her nose to try and keep control of her emotions, she stood with her other arm tightly clutching her waist, Mrs. Davenport and Mrs. Hayward at her sides in support. She looked up at him imploringly, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

"I'll find him, Dr. Quinn. I'll bring him back, I give you my word," he vowed, but the looks they exchanged spoke much more than that.

He had done a lot of thinking and soul searching over the course of the two weeks. Now, the anger and hurt that had been in his eyes before was gone, and he was telling her that if David was what she wanted, she had his blessing. She nodded once in response to both, knowing he would perform his 'duty' to his utmost as he kicked his horse into motion, followed the rest of the patrol out the gates, and maneuvered to his position at the head of the line.

Now, that had been twelve hours ago.

Michaela paced her quarters, fretting over the two men most important to her in the world. Her fiancé...and the man she now knew she loved with all her heart...Lieutenant Byron Sully.

OOOOOO

Sully raised his arm, signaling for the patrol to come to a halt as he shouted an order for them to stop.

The Arizona desert was not the most hospitable place to ride. The hot troopers pulled their horses to a standstill and took off sweaty hats, wiping perspiration off their foreheads with the backs of their forearms. Several took off their neckerchiefs and wiped their faces and backs of their necks, wishing for some shade. Each one remained at the ready, however, their eyes scanning their surroundings for any type of threat. None of them knew what they could possibly be riding to...but all of them had a gut feeling that they would find Captain Lewis dead, or at the very least, gravely wounded.

Brown haired, green eyed Sergeant McKay, Sully's second in command on this patrol, nudged his horse forward, joining his commander as they sat on their mounts and allowed them to rest while constantly scanning the desert for any sign of life – or danger.

"Whatdya think, Lieutenant?" the man asked, glancing at his superior.

He watched as Sully sat tall in the saddle, his long hair wet with sweat, face stoic as his keen blue eyes scanned their surroundings. The sergeant mused that the lieutenant reminded him of a mountain lion. The way he walked - an even, loping gate that was graceful yet masculine...the quiet way he always sat back and watched the proceedings, sizing up and deciding his next course of action with few, if any, words...the brooding expression the man usually wore. The only time the sergeant had seen the lieutenant relaxed or smiling was in the presence of the beautiful lady doctor...but that had ended abruptly. The sergeant had wondered why, although he had a suspicion, considering his fierce defense of her character.

The sergeant often wondered what went on behind the lieutenant's expressive eyes. Watching him now, he mused that no one knew much about Lieutenant Sully, other than he had joined the army immediately after the War had ended and rose quickly in the ranks due to his ability with a rifle and his all around competence. It seemed there wasn't much the lieutenant wasn't good at – he was even an expert at throwing a tomahawk and other 'Indian' skills, which was why he sometimes donned buckskins and served as a scout, and was allowed to wear his hair long instead of regulation length.

Sully turned and met the sergeant's eyes.

"I don't got a good feelin', Sergeant," he answered in a low voice.

The sergeant nodded in agreement. "Me neither. Somethin' don't bode well for the captain."

Nodding, Sully drew in a steadying breath, turning in his saddle to survey his men and take another sweep of the surrounding desert. Then he reached for his canteen and downed a large swig, wiping his mouth with the back of a gloved hand.

Stuffing the stopper back into the container, Sully looked out again over the terrain, squinting his eyes in the direction they needed to go. Glancing at his companion, who was still watching him, he nodded toward the northeast.

"Relay station's about two miles ahead. Tell the men to stay in tight formation and keep their eyes peeled, but if anything happens, not to shoot unless they hear my order."

"Right, Lieutenant."

"Tell 'em to give their horses a drink from their canteens. We'll move out in five minutes."

"Yes sir," he responded, wheeling his horse around to maneuver back to the men and pass the order down the line.

Ten minutes later, the patrol on their way again, they came over a slight rise and Sully once again threw his arm up in the air, halting their progress. He raised a hand to shade his eyes, squinting against the sun at an object one hundred yards ahead. A horse stood next to what looked like the body of a man lying face down on the hard dirt. It didn't appear that the man was wearing a uniform, but Sully couldn't be sure at that distance.

No movement could be seen anywhere within range, and there was nothing for an enemy to hide behind, so Sully once again signaled for the patrol to move forward, covering the distance in less than a minute. Dismounting, Sully crouched by the fallen man dressed in nice slacks and a white button up shirt, and carefully turned him over. The man had been shot, and had apparently bled to death and fallen from the horse.

It wasn't Captain Lewis _or_ Trooper Maxwell. Sully had never seen the man before. He raised his head and gazed forward, knowing the station was over the next ridge. A dozen possibilities swirled through his head, none of them good seeing as how Captain Lewis had not returned to the fort nor sent the trooper back.

Rising to his feet, he ordered two privates to position the dead man across the back of the unsaddled horse and bring him along. Then he remounted and signaled for the patrol to proceed. Each man was on the edge of his saddle, ready for anything. They approached the ridge and stopped, gazing down at the station. Smoke rose from the chimney. Laundry fluttered in the hot breeze on a line out back. Nothing seemed to be amiss or out of order...except that there were no horses in the paddock. No horses _anywhere_.

"Stay on your toes," Sully ordered the sergeant, who passed the message down the line.

The men moved forward as one.

When they were within shouting distance, Sully stopped the patrol again, leaning forward in his saddle, his hands cupping the sides of his mouth.

"You there in the station house –this is Lieutenant Sully of the United States cavalry stationed at Fort Lowell. Come out now, with your hands in the air!" he yelled loudly.

After about thirty seconds, the door slowly began to open. Every man in the patrol instantly drew his revolver.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

"Hold your fire!" Sully barked at his men, his eyes glued to the door of the station.

An older man Sully judged to be in his sixties came slowly out with his hands raised high.

"Don't shoot troopers! I ain't armed!" he hollered loud enough for the soldiers to hear.

Sully motioned for the man to walk toward them and he nudged his horse forward, ever mindful of someone else possibly coming out the door.

When the man reached the patrol, he gazed up at Sully, relief flooding his eyes.

"Am I ever glad you men are here. Got your doc inside, but he's in a bad way..."

"What's your name?" Sully interrupted.

"Clifford Cooke. I'm the station agent."

"Are you alone here? Is there anyone inside with you?" Sully queried, not taking any chances.

"Naw sir, just my missus and me run this here station. She's inside tryin' to do what she can for the doc..."

Sully instinctively knew that the man was telling the truth, so he motioned for the patrol to continue on to the yard of the station, where he dismounted. The old man trotted alongside Sully's horse, explaining what had gone on there, including how the last stage had left two days before.

"And you say this man here," Sully motioned toward the dead man hanging over the saddle, "is the one who did the shootin'?"

"Yessir," the man answered as they quickly entered the station house. "That's Mr. Vincent. He was the husband of the lady tryin' to have the baby, and when she died, and the baby was born dead, he just up and went crazy. Grabbed the doc's gun and shot him with it, screamin' '_Murderer_!' The trooper that was with the doc drew his gun and shot Mr. Vincent, but the fella shot back and killed the trooper..."

Sully had by this time made it to the captain's side, and as he knelt down next to him he could tell instantly that the prognosis wasn't good.

"Then Mr. Vincent staggered outside, chased all the horses away, and somehow managed to climb up on one and rode off into the night. T'weren't nothin' we could do but wait for help since he run off all the horses and the next stage ain't due 'til Friday," the station agent finished his rushed narrative.

Sully nodded in response, removing his gloves and cap as he leaned over Captain Lewis, glancing at the station agent's wife with a small smile of acknowledgment.

"I done the best I could, but he bled an awful lot...and the bullet's still in his side," Mrs. Cooke offered gently.

Just then, David opened his eyes and focused on Sully, drawing in a ragged breath.

"Lll...Lieutenant Sss...Sully," he rasped, attempting to move his arm, but wincing at the pain the action caused.

"I'm here, Captain. You're gonna be fine. We're gonna get you back to the fort and..." Sully began, but the captain interrupted.

"No...Lieutenant...listen...to me..." David rasped barely above a whisper, managing to grab hold of the front of Sully's uniform and draw him down close.

"Tell M...Michaela...I'm sss...sorry. Tell her...I love her...tell her...she's the m...most..." he stopped, gasping for air, the bullet that was lodged in one lung shifting with his exertion. Then his head relaxed back on the pillow and the air slowly escaped from his remaining lung. He was dead.

Sully checked the man's pulse and then laid a hand on his face, gently closing his eyes for the last time. The way his life had slipped away had brought back a painful memory for Sully. With a heavy sigh, he hung his head. Despite the tension between the two of them since Michaela's arrival, Sully had respected the knowledge and talents of the skilled surgeon. _This ain't no fittin' way for a soldier to die..._

"Michaela...was that the doctor's wife?" Mrs. Cooke asked gently.

Sully shook his head sadly, and mumbled, "No, she was his fiancée."

"Aw the poor man...he musta loved her an awful lot...I bet he called her name a dozen times durin' the night, God rest his soul," the woman replied before silently rising to go and stand by her husband.

"Yeah...I guess he did..." Sully murmured, the whole situation causing him entirely conflicting feelings.

OOOOOOOO

It was a somber patrol that entered the gates of the fort that evening.

Sully and the troop had spent time at the relay station rounding up the scattered horses, helping to bury the late Mr. Vincent, and offering what they could to comfort and reassure Mr. Cooke and his wife. Then Sully had issued the orders to carefully and respectfully wrap the bodies of Captain Lewis and Corporal Maxwell and tie them on two borrowed horses for the long ride back to the garrison.

With Audrey, Mary, and Amelia hovering at her elbows, Michaela stepped out onto the porch of her quarters as the soldiers rode in. She took one look at the two wrapped bodies and erupted into tears, whispering, "Oh David..." Although she had been expecting it, actually seeing the evidence still caused a tremendous shock.

Sully rode over near her and dismounted, handing his reins to a private nearby. Then slowly and respectfully, he took off his dusty gloves and approached her, waiting for her to shift her gaze from the captain's wrapped body to him.

"I'm sorry, Dr. Quinn. There was nothin' we could do," he murmured softly, trying to be as gentle as he could under the circumstances.

"How was he killed?" she whispered, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

Sully briefly explained the situation, pausing as he mentioned the frenzied grief the shooter had experienced the moment his wife had passed, then finished with what happened after they arrived.

Looking into her eyes in true sympathy, he murmured, "His last words were to tell you he was sorry...and that he loved ya very much."

"Oh David," she whispered again, deep feelings of both sadness and guilt stabbing her soul as she remembered how she had planned to leave him in a matter of days before this senseless tragedy. The tears fell faster as she dissolved under an avalanche of emotion.

Sully pursed his lips in a slight pout for an instant before reaching a hand to gently caress her arm, whispering, "I'm sorry."

She nodded in gratitude as the women at her sides hovered and comforted the distraught doctor, physically turning her around and leading her back inside her quarters.

"There, there, dear, I know this has broken your heart. There's nothing for it now but to have a good cry..." Mrs. Davenport cooed as she shepherded the grieving doctor through the door, the other two ladies following closely and fussing over the distraught Michaela.

Sully watched her go, then sighed tiredly and turned toward the colonel, asking permission to delay his report until he had a chance to freshen up. The colonel, a man who at times cared enough about his men to bend a few stiff military rules, told him to come to his office in the morning to give a full detailed report.

With a weary salute, Sully turned to walk toward his quarters as others set about making arrangements for the funerals. With the hot conditions, it wouldn't make sense to go to the trouble of transporting David's body all the way back to Boston. He would be buried with honors in the fort's small cemetery.

For Sully, it had been a very long day.

OOOOOOOO

Several hours later, Sully lay on his back in his bunk, hands behind his head as he stared at the ceiling. His body was bone weary, but he remained jarringly awake.

Thoughts and feelings raged through his mind and heart like wildfire.

Captain Lewis was dead. Michaela's fiancé was...out of the picture.

He wanted more than anything to head straight across the compound, knock on her door, and take her in his arms. He wanted to be the one to give her comfort, but army protocol would frown deeply on such a thing. He had no clue what do to next...or what _she_ would do now. Would she leave and go back to Boston? How long should he wait before he said something to her...and exactly what should he say? _Um, Michaela...could you be happy living on a lieutenant's salary? _

"Pfft, yeah right," he muttered in disgust.

Then the pendulum of his thoughts swung the other direction, and he felt the familiar pang of sorrow and now even guilt over the memory of his wife. _I promised her I'd mourn her and Hannah forever...that I'd never allow myself to be happy, because they had to suffer and die...and now...I'm tossin' 'em aside and wantin' another woman...lovin' another woman. _The guilt of that thought made him almost sick to his stomach and he rolled over on his bunk to stare at the wall as the memories came rolling back like a heavy, suffocating blanket of fog...

"Sully...Sully help me," Abby gasped as Sully gripped his wife's hand, striving to focus on her face through a haze of frightened tears. He turned his head, his eyes imploring Charlotte, the midwife, to keep trying.

She gave him a sad look and a tiny shake of her head. There was nothing she could do.

"Denver...we gotta get her to a doctor in Denver!" Sully suddenly exploded. "Get her ready, I'll go hitch up the wagon!" he added and was gone before Charlotte could say a word. She shook her head; knowing they would never make it...but also knowing they had to at least try.

Hurriedly gathering towels, blankets, and other items she thought they might need, she held the door open as Sully swept back in and scooped his heavily pregnant wife up in his arms, deftly maneuvering down the porch steps and over to the wagon. He sat her up on the tailgate as she moaned in pain, and quickly helped Charlotte get her situated in the back.

"Now don't worry about us, Sully – you just drive this thing as fast as it'll go, you hear?" Charlotte admonished as he swiftly climbed up in the seat. Swallowing dryly he nodded, took up the reins, and snapped them hard at the horse's rump, yelling a loud "YAH!" The horse took off down the drive, the wagon a cacophony of jingling chains and creaking wood as it rattled and jostled around the curve, and onto the road to Denver.

The miles seemed to stretch on and on, made even longer by his wife's screams that cut through him like a knife, each one slicing deeper and deeper. And with each scream, he would lash the horse with the leather reins, yelling for it to go faster...faster...faster...

After a particularly loud, piercing shriek, Sully turned his head to look into the back, instantly wishing he hadn't. He was horrified to see Charlotte in the act of bringing his newborn child from between his wife's thighs and up onto her stomach, trying to unwrap the umbilical cord, a bluish, rubbery looking thing, from around its neck. The sight made his stomach almost convulse.

Abby kept screaming...and Sully nearly let go of the reins when he saw the baby...so blue...so...death like. He whipped his head back around and lashed out at the horse again, urging him faster. Tears welled in his eyes and he swiftly wiped them away with the back of one hand, repeating a litany in his mind, _If we can just get her to Denver...If we can just get her to Denver..._

Finally just a few miles from their destination, he felt a hand touch his arm and he turned to see Charlotte imploring him with tears in her eyes.

"Sully...she wants you..."

He glanced down at his wife, and yanked the horse to a halt, jumping down and climbing up in the back of the wagon to kneel near his wife's head.

"Abby? Honey? I'm here...you gotta hang on..."

"Ssssullly," she slurred, so weak from loss of blood, despite Charlotte's desperate attempts to staunch the flow, that she could barely focus.

"Sshh, honey...I gotta get ya to Denver..." Sully whispered, drawing her head against his chest and pressing his lips against her sweat-dampened hair.

"Ssulllly, I...I'm scared...to die..."

"You ain't gonna die," he argued forcibly.

Weakly, she clutched at the front of his shirt. "I...I'm scared...you'll...forget me...and the baby..." she whispered, exhausted tears slowly slipping down her face.

"Never!" he vowed, sniffing back tears. "Never, I swear. I'll never forget you...or our baby...I'll _never_ love anybody else."

"P...promise?" she breathed softly, the trauma of the circumstance making her not realize the awful predicament she was inflicting on her husband. Not realizing the lengths he would go to keep that promise...

"I promise...now you just rest, and I'll get ya to that doc..." he began to admonish, but paused as he realized she had gone totally limp in his arms, her head falling to one side as her last breath slowly released.

"Abby? ABBY? NOOOOOOO!" he yelled, shaking his wife, trying to bring her back.

After that, the memory always degenerated into a wild frenzy of scattered images, running, yelling, falling, crying...and Charlotte's sensible voice talking him back from the brink of near insanity. Talking him out of doing something stupid...

With a jolt, he realized that hearing the story of Mr. Vincent reacting tragically to the very same trauma had brought it all back.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Sully finally drifted off to sleep, only to suffer a familiar dream/memory of Abby's father, Loren Bray, sneering at him that it was his fault his daughter and granddaughter had died. Sully saw himself again running, running far away.

But as the night wore on, the images in Sully's mind eventually, mercifully changed and mellowed, to a pair of mismatched eyes, gentle hands, and long, silky, chestnut hair...


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

"Would you like some more tea, dear?" Mrs. Davenport cooed the next morning to Michaela, whom she now thought of as her 'charge.' The sweet older woman never had children of her own, and Michaela was about the right age to have been her daughter. Now that the 'poor girl' lost her fiancé, she had named herself Michaela's number one protector.

"No, thank you, Amelia," Michaela whispered, grateful for the care, but truly wishing everyone would just go and leave her alone for a while. She felt stifled and nearly smothered with 'care', her head and eyes ached with shed and unshed tears, but she wished she had someone she could really talk to about it...someone who would understand.

Rebecca, so far away...Michaela longed for her sister's familiar arms and soft, loving voice. Rebecca, not her mother, had always been the one to soothe her hurts as a child.

But if she were honest with herself, her mind kept returning to..._Sully_. In the short time she had known him, he had become almost her confidant – and now she longed to see him, to talk to him, to hear him tell her everything was alright – and that the things she was feeling didn't make her a terrible person.

She hadn't wished David dead – of course not! Her heart was heavy with sadness over his passing, and what she knew the news would do to his parents and family. But...she wasn't grieving over him as her lost 'love,' and for that she was ashamed. And she couldn't bear for anyone at the fort to know.

But Sully knew. Her mind returned again and again to their argument the day of the monsoon rain. "Yeah, but _do – you – love 'im?" _He had asked point blank.

_No...not anymore... _

But David's last words had been to profess his love for _her. _The fact that her feelings had gone from love down to the level of 'friend' for the man she had traveled across the country to marry made her feel cheap and...

In the midst of her self-reproach, a knock was heard on the outer door of her quarters. Audrey went to answer it. Michaela reached for a fresh handkerchief to dry her eyes once again.

"Why Lieutenant Sully..." came Audrey's voice. Michaela stopped herself from gasping.

"Is...is she all right?" he asked quietly.

"She's doing...as well as can be expected."

"Can I see her a minute?"

"Well, I don't kn..."

"It's alright, Audrey," Michaela managed as she came into the main room and over to the door. Motioning for him to come in, he shook his head once in refusal.

They stood face-to-face, eyes locked and gazing, each yearning to do or say _something_, but the presence of the two other women in the room waylaid that wish.

Finally he swallowed and gestured toward her with one hand, murmuring, "How _are_ ya?"

She drew in a breath, glancing over her shoulder and then back to him. "I...I've been better."

He nodded and pressed his lips together. She stared back at him, allowing her emotions to be transparent. Truly what she wanted at that moment was for him to hold her, remembering the day of the snake incident when she had asked him for that and he had obliged – and how much better his arms around her had made her feel. The thought occurred to her that she needed his comfort even more right _then_ than she had out there in the desert.

He somehow read her thoughts, and let his mind return to their hour-long ride back to the fort that day with her snuggled in his arms. He had wished that ride could have gone on forever. The fierce need within him to _protect_ her now was nearly overpowering.

At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to reach out and draw her into his embrace and to tell her she need not fear. That if she wished it, he would stay with her forever. That he would always love her, no matter what.

But with the ladies milling around in the sitting area behind them, propriety demanded that neither allow their true feelings to show.

After several moments, Sully cleared his throat, shifting slightly to the side and meeting eyes with the colonel's wife before switching back to Michaela's.

"Well, uh...I'll stop back by later."

"I would like that," she murmured sincerely, thinking she would be counting the minutes until then.

He nodded, met the other women's eyes, and gripped the brim of his cap, murmuring, "Ladies," then turned and went about his duties.

She watched him walk for a moment, silently loving the way his body moved, so graceful, and yet so masculine. With a soft sigh, she softly shut the door.

"He's such a nice young man, that lieutenant," Amelia cooed as she bustled back over to Michaela to continue her 'comfort.'

"Yes, he certainly is," Michaela whispered, her eyes automatically going to the door to stare longingly at its warm wooden surface.

"He certainly is."

OOOOOOO

Sully stood at attention in the colonel's office, waiting for him to look up from reading a courier's message.

Finally, the older man glanced up at him. "At ease, Lieutenant. Have a seat. There's something I need to discuss with you," he added and waved a hand toward the chair in front of his desk.

Sully seated himself and gazed expectantly at the garrison's commanding officer.

"Yes, sir?"

"About yesterday...just a moment," the colonel paused, raising his voice to be heard through a closed door, "Corporal Ferguson!"

In a moment, the corporal opened the door. "Yes, sir?"

"Come in here. I want you to take down Lieutenant Sully's account of yesterday's incident and Captain Lewis' and Corporal Maxwell's deaths, for the official record."

The corporal immediately obeyed, grabbed paper and ink, and quickly made himself a small space at the corner of the Colonel's desk.

"Now Lieutenant, fill me in on all of the details of what happened yesterday."

Sully pressed his lips together and nodded, proceeding to explain in military terms everything that the patrol did the previous day, what the station agent related to him, how there was nothing he could do for the captain, and the rest of the details of the incident.

The old colonel nodded occasionally, and when Sully was finished, the commander glanced at the corporal. "You get all that Ferguson?"

"Yes, sir."

"All right, you're dismissed," he muttered with a jerk of his head toward the door.

The corporal immediately retreated and Sully made to stand also, but the colonel stopped him.

"Sit, Lieutenant...I have a matter I need to discuss with you."

Sully hesitated for a moment and then relaxed back down in the chair.

OOOOOOOO

Michaela eased herself into a chair in the mess hall late that afternoon, though she really didn't feel much like eating – but Mrs. Davenport had insisted.

Laying a napkin on her lap, she glanced around the room at the enlisted men and officers enjoying their evening meal, and noticed that Sully was not among them. A little miffed that he had not stopped by again as he promised, she shrugged and tried to concentrate on eating her meal – especially since the cook had prepared her favorites as a way of showing his sympathy.

All through dinner, nibbling on her food and smiling politely at her tablemates' attempts at conversation, she surreptitiously watched the mess hall's door, but there were no latecomers.

"You seem to be doing well this evening, Dr. Quinn," Captain Hayward complimented at one point. Michaela nodded and made an attempt at polite conversation, though truthfully she wished she could just retire back to her quarters.

Finally when the meal was finished, Michaela caught Corporal Lance as he walked by, asking as nonchalantly as she could, "Corporal...is Lieutenant Sully on duty do you know? I mean, I... wanted to thank him for his efforts yesterday," she fumbled, hoping that sounded realistic.

"I don't know, ma'am. I ain't seen the lieutenant since he rode off this mornin' right after breakfast."

"He..._rode off_? Do you know _where_?" she asked, striving hard to keep undue concern from her voice.

"I can't rightly say, ma'am. He had a pack with him, though," he added, trying to be helpful. He nodded and turned to go about his business, not noticing the completely crestfallen look that came over her face.

OOOOOOO

Sully had been riding hard for most of the day, striving to make it to his destination – Ft. Defiance - as quickly as possible.

As he rode, he slipped one hand to his buckskinned thigh and rubbed his palm appreciatively over the soft material, thinking again how comfortable the soft leather was compared to the scratchy wool of his military uniform. A tiny smirk softened his otherwise pensive expression as he thought about the fact that if he had _his_ way about it, he would wear buckskins all the time. But of course, that was out of the question – that would go against _regulations_.

The alert lieutenant rode methodically; ever vigilant against any foe lurking behind a bush or rock, while part of his mind daydreamed about the lovely Michaela. She would be making a decision soon on whether to stay or go, of course. His thoughts vacillated between imagining himself declaring his love...to taking the coward's way out and watching her climb up in a wagon to ride out of his life forever. The first scenario filled him with the fear of rebuff, especially after her comment about Captain Lewis offering her 'stability.' But the other filled him with an emptiness that he now realized would be even worse than he suffered after the death of his wife and baby.

On the long ride to the fort, he had plenty of time to come to terms with his own feelings – and he knew that he loved Michaela in a deeper way than he had loved Abby. It was just, different...and all consuming. He had felt a 'connection' to her the instant they met, and he knew she had felt it, too. With a silent nod, he acknowledged that if she were to vanish from his life, he would live the rest of his days with a giant hole in his heart...his silent, 'songless' heart.

Shaking his head as he realized he made it to the vicinity of the fort, he slowed down and surveyed the surroundings, his mind replaying the conversation with his commander that morning.

"We got word that Chief One Eye is planning an all out attack on Ft. Defiance – and that he was the one who led the ambush on that patrol last week, which killed both of their sharpshooters." The man paused, leaning forward and staring into Sully's eyes. "General Wooden requested we send _you_. He thinks that with the help of their scout, the two of you could get close enough to One Eye's camp to take him out. Without their chief, they'll be helpless, at least for awhile."

After laying that groundwork, they had spent the next thirty minutes discussing scenarios.

It was just the kind of assignment Sully would have volunteered for in a heartbeat when he had first joined the service. Back then he almost had a death wish, and volunteered for many dangerous missions. But now...it pained him that he had to do this. He found that he no longer had a heart for fighting, especially like this – to attack and kill a man who was unarmed, unprepared, and unsuspecting - an act that was not in self-defense. The thought went against his grain, but the colonel had not given him a choice and he knew he had to follow orders.

One thing he regretted was that he hadn't been able to say goodbye to Michaela before he left, and he wondered how she was doing. Oh, how he had wanted to take her in his arms and offer whatever comfort he could that morning at her quarters.

Despite the promises he had foolishly - and in the heat of the moment - made to his wife on her 'dying bed,' he knew with absolute certainty that he had fallen in love again, and for the first time in a very long time, his heart felt hope rising from the ashes of his long held despair.

He just hoped that Abby's 'ghost' would eventually leave him in peace.

Purposely avoiding the very real possibility that he might not come back from what would no doubt be a very dangerous assignment, his expression turned serious as he lifted an arm and signaled to the guards at the gate of Fort Defiance that he was 'friendly', and nudged his horse forward as the large wooden structures began to swing open.

He had no idea that the following forty-eight hours would change his life forever.


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Two long days had passed since Sully rode out of the fort to destinations unknown.

The funerals for David and Corporal Maxwell the previous day had been a somber affair, through which Michaela felt such conflicting emotions it only compounded her self-reproach.

David had been a 'good match' for her, almost as if their families had arranged their relationship. But, compared to what she now felt for Sully, her feelings for David, at best, had been those of a special friend.

Throughout her fiancé's memorial service, though she was terribly saddened by his untimely and unnecessary death...her thoughts had strayed time and again to the one soldier who was very mysteriously absent, and she would have been mortified if anyone had known.

Hearing David's commander expound on his virtues brought back some of her earlier feelings of fondness. But the pressure of every eye watching her, expecting her to collapse under the emotional weight, made her subterfuge feel even more reprehensible and was nearly more that she could handle.

Writing telegrams to David's family and her own had been difficult, but after attending the funerals in the one hundred degree weather, wearing all black, Michaela took to her bed as soon as they were over.

The next morning, she quietly queried anyone she thought might have information, but it seemed as if Sully had simply vanished. Although she knew the colonel must surely know, he steadfastly refused to even acknowledge the fact that Lieutenant Sully was missing! The whole thing was very strange and unsettling, to say the least, and compounded Michaela's growing unrest. Unable to vent her true feelings pushed her closer and closer to the point where she felt as if she would explode.

The other ladies had continued their vigilant care of their silently grieving friend. But by the evening of the second day, the third night after David's death, Michaela had reached her limit.

Seeing that the sweet older woman had begun to once again ready the settee as her accommodations for the night, Michaela took a deep breath and crossed to her friend.

Laying her hand upon her shoulder, she encouraged, "Mrs. Davenport...it isn't necessary that you spend another uncomfortable night away from your own bed. Truly, I'll be perfectly fine by myself."

The jolly silver-haired matron turned to her charge in surprise. She had found what she thought was her 'calling' and she wasn't prepared to give it up as yet. "But...my dear..."

"I insist. A good night's sleep will do wonders for me," she paused, giving a fond hug to Mrs. Davenport and to Mrs. Hayward. "Both of you...please. I'd feel so much better if I knew you both were comfortable tonight."

Having stopped their preparations, the ladies glanced at each other and shrugged, allowing Michaela to gently sweep them toward the door, although they made her promise that she would send a sentry to fetch one of them if she changed her mind and needed the company.

Michaela smiled with a grateful nod, but sighed in deep relief once the door was firmly closed. Emotionally spent, she made her way slowly into the other room, one hand listlessly unbuttoning the tight black dress.

She had always been an independent person, never allowing herself to rely on anyone else – except of course, her father. But after his death, she determined within her own heart that she would not depend upon another person again, man or woman. She would stand strong and make her own decisions. This was something she and David had disagreed over many times.

But now...the realization that she 'needed' to see and talk to Sully actually frightened her with its intensity. The fact that he was nowhere around and had not even so much as told her goodbye made it even worse. She simply could not accept that she had lost both her fiancé and the man she had fallen in love with in the space of two days!

"Oh Sully! Where _are_ you?" she whispered to the darkness of her lonely bedroom. "Why did you go away and not say anything?" Her question, as always, was met with nothing but silence. Going through the motions mechanically, she made herself ready for bed and slipped between the sheets.

She knew she had decisions to make. _Important_ decisions. She couldn't stay on at the fort...but the thought of returning to Boston – without even the 'respectable' title of 'widow' - seemed unacceptable. What would she _do_ in Boston? She had no medical practice to which she could return, and her mother would surely refuse to allow her to use her father's office again. The thought of working in the poor houses and orphanages the rest of her life held no draw for her whatsoever. She had no _life_ back in Boston, as she had never been one for going to parties or cotillions. No jilted suitors waited in hopes that she would change her mind, and even if there were...she knew now that she wanted no other man. She had experienced an emotional connection with a man and she knew she could never again accept anything less.

The same thoughts circled round and round in her mind, as if on a never-ending carousel.

Much later, she turned on her side and tried to get comfortable as she heard the fort gates open and close. Muffled words floated across the compound. _Probably the night perimeter guard returning_, she mused with a sigh.

Ten minutes later, a noise roused her from a semi-sleep and she lay still, thinking it was her imagination. Within moments, however, she felt a presence next to the bed.

Opening her eyes, she saw a figure in the act of crouching down and she opened her mouth to scream in fright, but a hand reached out and clamped over her lips before she could do so.

"Michaela?" came a soft whisper.

Instantly she realized it was the man she had wished to see for nearly three days.

"Sully?" she squeaked when he released her, hastily sitting up in bed and unconsciously drawing the covers higher on her night-gowned chest.

"Yeah it's me," he murmured, watching as she reached to light the lamp next to the bed.

As the glow illuminated the darkness, she turned her head to look at him, and gasped.

He was filthy, his hair a mess, his face bruised, lips cut and swollen as if he had been in a violent fight. His clothes – his immaculate regulation uniform, in which heretofore she had always seen him, had been replaced by buckskin pants, moccasins, and a sleeveless buckskin shirt, which was torn and bloodied. Around his waist was a leather tool belt, which sported a bloodstained tomahawk and what looked like a huge knife. He even had blood on his arms.

"What happened to you? Where have you been?" she whispered, but before he could answer, the stress of the last two days came back with a vengeance and before she could stop herself, she lit into him.

"No one knew where you were, or at least they wouldn't tell me – you just _disappeared_! And you didn't keep your promise – the last time I saw you, you said you would stop back by later. Then you were gone! You didn't even tell me _goodbye_!" She railed at him.

"I wanted to...but there wasn't time..." he tried, but she cut him off again.

"Wasn't _time_? Don't you know what I've been going through since David died? I...I needed someone to talk to...that I could _trust_," she added a little softer.

Her words made him feel even worse, although he had defied convention and snuck in to her quarters to see her the moment he had returned – he hadn't even reported to the colonel yet.

"I'm _sorry_...are ya okay now?" he murmured, reaching out a hand to try and smooth a strand of her hair back from her shoulder. For some reason, this inflamed her anger again.

"**What do you care? You disappear for two days!"**

Becoming a trifle agitated at her continued assault, he huffed an impatient sigh.

"Sshh, somebody'll hear us," he cautioned, but when she opened her mouth to say more, he continued, "I went on an assignment. Nobody knew but the colonel, and I guess he didn't wanna let on," he explained.

She paused at hearing this and drew in a deep breath. "A secret assignment?" she murmured, calming down as she realized he must have snuck in to see her...and then his appearance began to really register. From the looks of things, it had been a dangerous assignment.

"Yeah...but it went wrong...I really messed things up," he admitted softly, closing his eyes and allowing his head to drop forward in exhaustion.

"What happened?" she asked softly, her anger of moments ago now evaporating as she realized just what shape he was in. Sliding her legs out of the way, she reached for his hand and pulled him up from his crouching position to sit on the bed.

He winced as he moved, settling gingerly down at the foot of her bed.

"Are you alright?" she immediately asked, but he waved away her concern with a mumbled, "It's nothin'."

"Sully – are you _injured_?" she asked, the physician within beginning to take over as she reached for him, trying to 'examine' him for injuries.

"I'm _fine_," he insisted as he determinedly pushed her hands away.

She stopped, frustrated. "Sully...what happened out there? Please tell me."

At his hesitation, she tilted her head to the side and forced him to look into her eyes. "Please?" she asked again softly.

He drew in a breath, wincing again, and fighting the power she had over him.

Dropping his head, he shook it once, whispering, "I...I don't want to tell ya. I don't even wanna think about it."

A cold chill ran down her spine at his words. "Sully, _please_...whatever it is, you can tell _me_," she urged quietly, her own problems now woefully insignificant in the face of Sully's obvious distress. "Was this done in the line duty?" she guessed.

He hesitated, picturing the scene again. "Yes...and no."

She remained quiet, hoping he would open up. After a few minutes of Sully staring at his hands, which had started to shake slightly, he whispered, "Michaela...I'm so ashamed of what I done..." He clamped his teeth and shut his eyes, trying to decide how much to reveal. Then finally, he dared to glance back up at her, needing her reassurance that he wasn't the devil his conscience had convinced him he was. At her look of genuine concern, he swallowed dryly.

"I...I shot...a _woman_," he whispered, grimacing in self-disgust.

"What?" she breathed, eyes wide. _"Who? How?"_

Pressing his lips together in determination, he drew in another breath, murmuring quietly, "An Indian chief, named One Eye, had been plannin' an all out attack on Ft. Defiance. They'd already wiped out a patrol last week...when they sent for Captain Lewis to come and help with doctorin'?" he paused, and she nodded for him to go on. "Well...both of their garrison's sharpshooters were killed..." he paused again, casting a wary glance at her. "I'm a sharpshooter, Michaela...a sniper...and I been on lots of assignments like this," he admitted, staring into her eyes to see if she was revolted by this information, but she met his gaze unflinchingly.

Michaela was thinking that a soldier killing an enemy in self-defense, in the line of duty, is different than all out premeditated murder; though, as a doctor, she disapproved of killing for any reason. But knowing Sully needed to vent, to confess as it were, she kept silent, nodding once in answer to his statement.

"Well...I was sent to 'take out' the chief, General Wooden and Colonel Davenport figurin' that the rest of the braves would scatter, or at least need time to regroup or somethin'..." He paused, gathering his thoughts, and swayed a tiny bit as he began to feel lightheaded.

"Go on..." Michaela encouraged softly.

He swallowed dryly. "Me and Gray Fox, their Pawnee scout, found their camp. I...I waited three hours to get a clear shot. I got a bead on One Eye...but the second I squeezed the trigger... he moved...and my bullet hit... his _wife_ instead," he whispered, shuddering when the memory flashed in his mind, and how sick he felt to witness the tragedy caused by his own hand. His eyes welled in anguish.

"Oh Sully," Michaela breathed sympathetically, feeling for both the victim and for him.

"I...I felt so sick about what I'd done, I just jumped on my horse and high-tailed it, Gray Fox right behind me. The braves gave chase...and One Eye caught up with us. He knew I had been the one to kill... his wife and... and he was out for blood..." he paused as a shudder ran through his body, swallowing again. "You got any water?"

"Of course!" she whispered, quickly climbing out of bed and crossing the room to the pitcher on the bureau and pouring him a glass. She carried it back to the bed, handing it to him carefully. He drank it down like a man dying of thirst.

Regrouping, he continued as he reached for her hands, lacing his fingers with hers as she resettled next to him on the bed.

"He fought me with everythin' he had, yellin' like a crazy man," he added, reliving the scene, the wild man with a patch on one eye screaming a phrase in his language over and over. Sully had known what the man was screaming, and it made his blood run cold. Squinting now in reaction, a teardrop overflowed as he remembered one solid kick to his face the Indian had managed during their vicious fight, and the glint of the Indian's large knife in the moonlight...and the intense pain. "I thought sure he would kill me...but I finally got the best of 'im," he paused again, taking another large drink of water.

"By that time another brave had killed Gray Fox, and when the rest saw One Eye was dead, they gathered around 'im, wailin' and I was able to sneak off. Somehow I made it back here," he finished in a whisper, tears now slowly trickling down his face.

"Oh Sully..." Michaela whispered sympathetically, and thoroughly ashamed at how she had spoken to him when he first arrived, thrust convention aside and gathered him into her arms. He came willingly, pressing his forehead against her neck. Tears quietly slipped down his face as she held him, rocking him, her fingers gently smoothing his tangled hair as she stared forward unseeingly, saddened by his anguish.

After some time went by, Sully straightened up, pushed his hair back from his face and made to stand up. "I should go..." he murmured.

"All right...we'll talk more tomorrow..." Michaela offered softly, her brow furrowing as she saw him start to rise, pause, and slowly stand to his feet.

"Sully...are you sure you are all right?" she asked, but he merely nodded and turned, making his way to the bedroom door and on toward the door of her quarters.

"I gotta make sure nnnobody ssssees me..." he whispered, his words a bit slurred as he reached the door. Michaela, very concerned about him, reached out to him as he opened the door a crack and looked outside.

Then as if all the air was released from his body, he sunk down to his knees onto the porch floor, then to the side as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	9. Chapter 9

**_A/N Just want to take a moment and thank everyone who has left a review for me about this story, signed, unsigned, and pm's. You guys are great! I'm thrilled that you are enjoying the story. Please don't stop! Your comments keep me writing! :) Thank you!_**

* * *

CHAPTER 9

Sully tossed and turned, shaking with chills as fever raged through his exhausted body. He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, a soft moan escaping his parched lips.

Michaela bent over him as she sat by his side on his bunk, applying a cool cloth to his forehead and whispering comforting murmurs to try and ease his fevered mind. Reaching for the glass on the table by the bed and lifting his head a bit, she tried to coax him into taking a swallow of water, but he barely responded.

When he quieted a bit, she pulled back the light blanket draped over his body for modesty's sake, and peeked under the large bandage on his left side. The knife wound still looked terribly angry and inflamed as his body reacted to what must have been some type of poison on the knife's blade. Michaela wasn't sure what kind of poison it was, undoubtedly something made from a plant, but it had seized Sully's body in a grip that wouldn't let go. He had been delirious for two days.

Michaela had never seen anything like it, and she feared if she couldn't get the fever under control soon...he would succumb. She was determined to do everything in her power to prevent that from happening.

She had cleaned the six-inch flesh wound as thoroughly as possible and stitched it closed; all the while thanking God the blade had not penetrated to his organs. Sully had apparently tried to treat himself, as there had been some sort of poultice pressed into the wound, but she couldn't tell whether it had helped or hindered the healing process. Now, peeling off the bandage, Michaela cleaned the area again. Applying a generous amount of medicinal salve over the stitches, she covered the whole thing with fresh bandages, reaching under his body and tying strips of cloth around his torso to hold them in place. As she worked, she murmured quiet prayers to God for Sully's recovery.

Just as she finished, Colonel Davenport stuck his head in the door.

"How is he, Dr. Quinn?" he asked softly, being careful not to disturb the lieutenant.

"No better, I'm afraid," she murmured in reply, turning to meet the man's concerned gaze. The colonel pressed his lips together in a sympathetic pout, watched the patient for several minutes, and then tipped his hat, moving on about his business with the admonishment to let him know the minute his condition changed – for the better, or...for the worse.

When Sully had first fallen unconscious on the porch of her quarters, Michaela had tossed convention to the winds and yelled for help, explaining that he had merely come to check on her upon his return to the fort.

The colonel had immediately sent an urgent message to the next fort to ask their doctor's help, but he was too busy attending to their own wounded and could not come. Michaela had insisted she be allowed to tend to Sully, standing her ground firmly, and this time the old colonel had backed down and allowed it – much to everyone's surprise.

Several times, the colonel had been to see his stricken lieutenant, and found the woman doctor to be taking very capable care of her patient. Indeed – full and complete care. Other than several of the men helping to remove his soiled clothing and place him in his bunk, she had not allowed anyone else to care for him, choosing to take her meals in his small quarters, even sleeping in a chair next to his bed. Very slowly, the old colonel had begun to change his mind, albeit just a little, about 'women doctors.' He supposed that she and the lieutenant had become quite good friends during their many morning horse rides, and he found her devotion to his care quite admirable.

After he had gone, Michaela turned back to her precious patient, reaching to smooth a lock of hair from his flushed face as she adoringly perused his handsome features.

"You've _got_ to get better, Sully. _Fight_ this. Fight hard. Please...don't die," she added, her eyes welling with unshed tears. At her wit's end and having exhausted her store of knowledge for his treatment, she bowed her head, murmuring yet another heartfelt prayer for his recovery.

Sully moved his head side-to-side, reacting to something he was seeing in his mind in his fevered unconsciousness. "Don't...leave...me," he whispered.

Gasping softly, she took hold of one of his hands, pressing it to her cheek. "I'm here, Sully. I'm not going to leave you, I promise," she vowed with quiet surety.

He moved his head, dislodging the cloth and she picked it up to dip in the cool water and reapply.

"Promise..." he whispered.

"Yes, I promise," she responded, having no idea he was not speaking to _her_, but the word had sparked a painful memory.

"Abby..." he whispered, and Michaela's hands instantly stopped, her eyes wide as another woman's name slipped from the lips of the man she loved.

"Abby...I...I know... I promised...but I c...I can't... do it any...anymore," he murmured, mumbling more words that were unintelligible. Michaela leaned closer as she reapplied the cloth to his forehead. He reached up and weakly grasped her arm.

"I'm sss...sorry...please forgive me...Abby..." he almost whined, his face a study of anguish.

Michaela swallowed hard. _Abby..._who was this woman? In the many times they had talked, Sully never mentioned there was someone in his life. As she thought about it, she realized that in every conversation concerning her past and David, he had remained silent, merely allowing her to vent – but never volunteered anything about a similar situation in his own life.

Now she wondered...this _Abby_...was she his sweetheart? His fiancée? _What was it he said? 'I know I promised you, but I can't do it anymore'...do WHAT anymore? _The thought reared its ugly head that Sully was married...and his wife had remained 'back home,' but try as she might, she couldn't remember if he'd told her where he was living before he went in the army. He told her he had been a silver miner in Colorado...did he meet Abby there? Is that where she still was...perhaps waiting for his return?

Michaela felt as if her stomach had dropped to the dusty plank floor. Silently, she acknowledged that it would stand to reason women would be attracted to Sully...he was kind, brave, confident, skillful at so many things...and mouthwateringly handsome. Why had she never thought of this possibility before? _Oh! _She silently groused, _what did he promise this Abby? Marriage? Faithfulness? _

Shaking her head, she resolved not to assume the worst. She would wait until he got better, got stronger...then she would broach the subject. She shivered a little, despite the warm temperature in the room. The thought of 'confronting' Sully about a possible 'other woman' set her teeth on edge.

Perhaps she could ask someone else...

Just then, Corporal Lance walked by the door and Michaela called out to him. He backtracked and stuck his head in the doorway.

"Yeah, Dr. Mike?"

She smiled at his choice of greeting and motioned him closer. The men had quickly begun to use the nickname after she had stepped in to tend to the wounded Sully, and she had shared with them that the children at an orphan's home in Boston had called her by that moniker. Now in the space of a very short time, she was 'Dr. Mike' to everyone.

Once he moved into the small room and stood there looking at her expectantly, her nerve weakened and she stammered, "I...um...would you mind sitting with the lieutenant while I go across to my quarters and freshen up?"

"Sure thing, ma'am," he immediately agreed, stepping inside.

"Thank you," she smiled sincerely. "I'll only be a little while...but please, if _anything_ changes, send someone for me immediately."

"Yes, _ma'am_," he nodded sincerely, seating himself in her vacated chair and training his eyes on his prone superior. He certainly didn't want the lieutenant to take a turn for the worse on _his_ watch.

She nodded and went to the door, hesitating as she looked back at her patient still lying there, intermittently tossing and turning, and still mumbling unintelligible phrases. She sighed softly and turned to go.

Twenty minutes later, in a fresh skirt and blouse, her hair straightened, and feeling somewhat refreshed and ready to continue her vigilance, she appeared once again at Sully's door. He looked the same, and Corporal Lance immediately rose to give her the chair back, relating that nothing different had happened while she was gone.

She thanked him, and as he was turning to go, she ventured, "Um...Corporal? May I ask you something?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Hesitating for a moment, she decided to dive right in. Glancing at Sully and noting there was no change – that he hadn't regained consciousness - she asked softly, "Do you happen to know if...if the lieutenant has a fiancée back home...or a wife...anyone to notify of his condition?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

The corporal thought for a minute and shook his head slowly. "I don't think so, ma'am. The lieutenant there...he don't talk much, you know? All's I know is that he joined up right after the war and cause he's so good with a rifle and everythin', he rose up in the ranks quick...but I don't know much about his personal life."

She nodded, hoping he would continue.

He shifted his weight to lean against the door jam, scratching his head in thought. "I know he was once a silver miner...and he dug for gold durin' the Pike's Peak rush in '59." Michaela nodded again, Sully had already shared that bit of information with her. "But, he ain't never been one to sit around and jaw with us...just mostly stayed to his'self in his quarters here." Then he added seriously, "One time when we were all in the mess hall talkin', killin' time, and everybody was talkin' about their wives or sweethearts back home, somebody asked him if he had one. His face got kinda cloudy and he mumbled, 'Nope,' and just got up and walked out the door. Nobody ever asked him again."

Michaela swallowed with immense relief. The corporal seemed to read her expression, and he continued thoughtfully, "The lieutenant...he's always been kinda sad, ya know? To tell ya the truth...the only time I ever saw him smile was when he'd come back from a horse ride with _you_."

With that he smiled kindly at her, tipped his cap, and went on about his business, leaving Michaela with much-relieved warmth permeating her being.

OOOOOO

Sully slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the low light of the lamp next to the bed. Becoming aware of his surroundings, he realized he was in his bunk in his quarters, but he couldn't remember how he got there.

Then hearing soft breathing nearby, he turned his head slightly and his eyes widened a bit as he saw Michaela sitting slumped in a chair asleep. Glancing downward, he realized she was holding his left hand.

He tried to swallow, but his mouth and throat felt as dry as desert sand. He wondered how long he had been asleep...or ill?

Gazing at her relaxed form with her head tilted to one side, his mouth formed a slight smile.

"Michaela?" he whispered. No response. He tried again, giving her hand a tiny squeeze.

"Michaela?"

She flinched and her eyes opened, staring at him. Then realization dawned that he was returning her gaze and her eyes widened, along with her grin.

"Sully! Oh Sully, you're awake!" she gushed, albeit softly since it was the middle of the night.

"Yeah...how long I been...?" he whispered, gesturing to his prone figure with his other hand.

"You've been delirious with fever for nearly three days." Releasing his hand and raising hers to feel of his damp forehead, she smiled in relief. "Your fever's broken, thank God." Then turning, she filled a glass with fresh water from a pitcher on the bedside table. Lifting his head, she helped him drink a goodly amount. When he had taken his fill, he relaxed back on the pillow with a sigh.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice rough. The last thing he remembered was fighting with a vicious Indian, searching for some yarrow plant and ferns to tend his wound...and hanging onto his horse mile after mile to get back to the fort – and Michaela. He remembered especially how that thought kept him going..._Gotta get to Michaela..._

"Evidently, the knife One Eye attacked you with had been dipped in some kind of poison. I'm not sure what, but it really... I've had to fight hard to keep you with us," she admitted with a twinkle. "But now that you've awakened and your fever has broken, I'm sure the danger has passed." His eyes twinkled in return as he moved his hand and gingerly felt of the bulky bandage on his side.

"You been takin' care of me?" he asked, suddenly realizing he was naked under the blanket covering his lower half.

Michaela turned a tiny bit pink. "I'm a doctor, Sully. I've...seen everything there is to see before, believe me."

"That right?" he murmured, and she smiled at the mirth in his gaze. Remembering the previous days when she had tended to his needs...down there...she swiftly strove to change the subject before he could embarrass her further.

"The, um, colonel has come to visit you several times...he will be very happy to see you're going to be fine," she murmured, unable to resist reaching to smooth several locks of wavy hair from his face.

"Sounds like the colonel has _you_ to thank for that," he murmured gently, weakly reaching up to grasp her hand and bring it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her fingers. "I guess you really _are_ a good doc, like you been sayin'," he teased softly. Staring into her eyes, he whispered, "Thanks for takin' such good care of me. The Indians would say you have a debt on me."

"We...we all have a debt on each other," she murmured softly, so very thankful he was awake and talking. She determinedly pushed any other thought...or woman...from her mind for the time being.

"Mmm hmm," he agreed with a nod.

Grinning her half smile, one eyebrow rising, she quipped softly, "Why don't we just..._call it even_?"

With that, she disengaged her hand from his and stood up, moving across the small room and busying herself with 'straightening up,' though in reality she was striving to regain control.

He lay there watching with a very pleased, dreamy smile on his face.

At that moment, there was no place he'd rather be.


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

A week went by, during which time Sully slowly regained his strength. Michaela returned to her own quarters, but visited him often to check the progress of his healing...and to just spend time with him. She supervised all of his meals, persuading the cook to prepare especially nutritious, protein-filled meals for her special patient.

During those long, relaxing days, Michaela would often come to his door and find him pensive, staring at the ceiling or out his window deep in thought...almost melancholy. He would, however, immediately brighten upon seeing her lovely face.

She knew he was brooding over what he had done; regardless that it had been unintentional. But there seemed to be something else on his mind, worrying him, causing him considerable angst. Though she tried often to persuade him to confide in her, a tiny smile would grace his lips and he would shake his head with his customary, "S'nothin'." Then he would reach for her hand and give it a gentle kiss, his eyes smoldering as they gazed into hers, his look speaking volumes.

Yet though his eyes spoke volumes of his feelings towards her, his voice had yet to make those thoughts known. Not once had he told her how he felt or what he thought about her, though she tried every way she knew to coax it out of him. And turnabout being fair play, she hadn't voiced her own feelings, though anyone who saw the two of them together could see the handwriting on the wall. The troopers began making quiet bets on how soon the lieutenant and the lady doctor would admit they had both been shot by Cupid's arrow. No one begrudged them, as each man in the garrison could see the lieutenant deserved to win the lady doctor's hand more than the captain ever had.

At the end of seven days, Sully was strong enough to be up and about, though temporarily relieved of all duties. They spent a good part of the day together in the mess hall playing chess.

The start of the second week found Sully put back on light duty assignments. He came in to the mess hall the third morning to find Michaela alone at a table, picking at her food. Sully crossed to her, reaching out to touch her sleeve when she didn't look up at his approach.

"Hey...you okay?" he asked softly when he gained her attention.

She sighed softly and forced herself to smile up at him. "Yes, I'm fine," she answered, but he could tell the smile was strained.

"No you ain't...what's wrong? Ain't ya gonna go on your ride?" he added teasingly.

She gazed at him and smiled, shaking her head. "I haven't ridden since David..." she began, and then paused as no more words were needed. He pursed his lips and nodded.

After a moment of watching her so preoccupied, glancing around the room and fidgeting with the sleeve of her blouse, he prompted, "So...tell me what's wrong."

She shrugged and glanced at him intending to deny it. "Oh, I..." she began, but stopped at the raised eyebrow look he gave her. She sighed and gave another tiny shrug, thinking he knew her too well. "The colonel wants me to decide what I'm going to do...now that David is..."

Sully nodded and lowered himself into a seat adjacent to hers as she continued, "The problem is...I really have nowhere to go." At his questioning look, she added, "I mean, of course I could go back to Boston...but I really have nothing to go back to, other than taking up residence again in my childhood bedroom in my mother's home. I have no practice to return to...I wouldn't even be a 'returning widow'," she added sardonically.

"Well...they need good doctors in the _West_..." he offered, a dimpled smile gracing his lips when she glanced at him.

"Yes, but I'm a 'woman' doctor. It would be extremely difficult to just show up in a town and hang up a shingle. Besides, the _West_ is a vast area. I would have no idea where to go to even _try_," she added with a tiny defeated shrug.

Sully thought for a moment, as if weighing the pros and cons of something, while watching the expression on her face.

"Colorado needs good doctors," he finally offered.

"Colorado?" she murmured, eyeing him.

"Yep. The town I lived in before I...enlisted – Colorado Springs – they could sure use one." _Boy, could they ever..._he added silently.

"You've been in the military two years, perhaps they have one by now," she pointed out logically.

He shook his head. "Nope. Got a friend there, her name's Charlotte Cooper. She writes me sometimes. Just last month she wrote me and mentioned the Reverend's advertised for a doc, but they ain't had no answers yet."

Michaela thought about this for a few moments. "Do...do you really think they would accept a woman doctor there?"

He smiled and shrugged. "Don't really know 'til you try...but _I_ could testify you're a good doc. Ya fixed _me_ right up," he teased, carefully patting his nearly healed side.

She smiled at his compliment, but added, "Yes, but you would be _here_, which wouldn't help me much."

"I could write 'em a letter," he suggested helpfully.

Smiling again, she automatically reached out and placed her hand over his on the table.

"Thank you, Sully. I'll give it some thought."

He nodded, and returned her smile, murmuring, "You're welcome."

Just then, the colonel and several of the majors came in the door and Sully got up from the chair to make his way across the large room, a bit of a spring in his step.

OOOOOO

The next two weeks went by in a flurry of messages and activity for Michaela. After carefully thinking it over, she made her choice. Since Ft. Lowell had not been connected by telegraph line yet, she persuaded the colonel to send a rider to Bowie, the nearest town with a telegraph. He was to contact a Reverend Timothy Johnson in Colorado Springs, inquiring if the position of town doctor were still open, and if so, she would like to apply for the job. The corporal was to sign the telegram, Michaela Quinn, MD, and to wait for an answer. The Reverend answered back within a matter of minutes that they would be happy to offer the position, but that they wouldn't be able to provide stage fare to come. Michaela had instructed the corporal how to answer for several scenarios, and he immediately sent a return message that she would accept and would arrive by the first stage she could arrange.

Next, she wrote letters to her mother and sisters, explaining that she had accepted a position as town physician in Colorado Springs, Colorado. Thankfully, she had money left from her inheritance, so she wouldn't have to ask help with stage fare.

Each day found Sully physically stronger and nearly returned to his former fitness...and both of them dreaded the day when she would say goodbye. Though they had come close on several occasions, they still had not verbally admitted their feelings to one another, and time was swiftly running out.

The day before she was to leave, Michaela was in her quarters finishing up her packing and gazing around at the place that had come to feel like home after four months. As she stood at the bed placing clothing in her trunk, an item already packed got her attention and she picked it up, gently fingering a photograph of David he had given her when they first started courting. Once again she felt guilty that she was not as brokenhearted as she should have been over his death. Although of course she was still saddened by it, she didn't feel that crushing 'loss' that she would have felt if..._Sully_ had died.

The thought of Sully now brought a sting to her eyes, and she wiped at them with the back of one hand, choosing to not think about the fact that she would soon ride away and never see him again. _But at least he won't be dead._

Just then, a knock at the door of her quarters made her repack David's picture and cross into the main room to answer it. She smiled when she saw the object of her thoughts on her doorstep, standing there with cap in hand.

"Hello Sully...won't you come in?" she asked softly, stepping back to allow him to enter.

"Thanks," he murmured, stepping inside and allowing her to close the door.

They looked at each other for a few moments, each unsure of what to say.

Finally Sully cleared his throat and offered, "Um, I asked the colonel and he said I could drive you to Bowie in the fort's wagon...with a two man escort."

Her eyes lit up – two nights on the road and hours sitting beside him in the wagon. She almost chuckled at the "Christmas gift" feeling that news gave her.

"That's wonderful!" She burst, correcting when his eyes twinkled at her amusingly, "I...I mean, that will be fine...thank you."

He cleared his throat again and they both glanced around the room, each of them staring for a moment at the table where they had played chess together that rainy day. That day seemed so long ago...

"Are...are you all packed?"

"Just about."

"Colonel said we'd leave after breakfast in the mornin'..."

"Oh, good...I'll be ready..."

Their conversation exhausted, each a little uncomfortable, Michaela bit her lip and crossed her arms on her chest.

A few tense moments later, Sully finally placed his cap back on his head and straightened the brim, murmuring, "Well, uh...I best be goin'."

"Yes..."

With that, he walked to the door and slipped outside. She closed it behind him and leaned against it with a sigh, determinedly pushing the thought of their inevitable parting aside and setting her mind to enjoy the trip to Bowie.

OOOOOO

That evening, the garrison's cook went all out making a feast for Michaela's last night.

Over the course of the four months, she had made casual friends with nearly every man there and knew them all by name. Many had come to the lovely lady doctor with ailments after her successful treatment of Sully, and for a time she had enjoyed quite a few 'patients.' Now one by one, troopers came to her table to tell her goodbye and that they would miss her presence in the fort. The sentiments touched her deeply, especially when she remembered that no one but Rebecca had taken her to the train station the morning she left to join David.

Finally, the evening wore down and it was time to retire to her quarters for the last time. Amelia, Mary, and Audrey walked her to her door, each teary-eyed that she would be leaving the next day. She hugged them each a heartfelt goodbye, later climbing in bed with an odd mixture of sadness and excitement that one door of her life was about to close for good – and another soon to open.

True to Sully's word, the wagon was all ready to go, bright and early the next morning. The cook had made sure to stock it well for their two and a half day journey to Bowie.

Michaela hugged the women goodbye again, and shook hands with many of the troopers, promising to post letters they had written to their families back home, which normally could only be mailed by the supply wagon once a month.

Then, Sully assisted her up onto the seat of the covered wagon, climbed up beside her, and soon they were off. She leaned over the side of the seat and waved to her friends as many of them stood waving back, Amelia and Audrey wiping tears with their embroidered hankies.

When the gates of the fort closed behind them, she turned and met Sully's eyes...

They both privately determined to make every moment of the next forty-eight hours count, as they would have to last them a lifetime.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

The wagon rolled and bumped along the dry, sometimes rocky ground. Sully looked over at Michaela as she fanned herself. It was a truly hot day...and she had worn a long sleeved dress for the ride. Her face looked flushed and he was starting to get a bit worried about her.

"Ya know...it's real hot out here, and there ain't nobody to impress...why don't you change outta that fancy dress and put on somethin' more comfortable?" he asked, giving her a no-nonsense gaze.

She stopped fanning and gazed back at him, slightly surprised that he would bring up such a subject.

"I beg your pardon."

"You heard me. You wanna pass out from the heat?"

"Mr. Sully, as a physician, I think I'm quite qualified to tell if I'm on the verge of overheating or not. You really take liberties sometimes, don't you?" She huffed.

"Liberties? I'm just tellin' ya like it is. _Miss Quinn_," he added sarcastically.

Michaela shot another glance at his profile, surprised at his tone of voice. He stared straight ahead, both hands on the reins, elbows resting on his knees, long wavy hair fluffing in the hot breeze. He looked totally unaffected. But as she kept watching, his face betrayed him and a hint of a dimple appeared in his cheek as he tried not to grin. He was teasing her!

She turned back to scanning the scenery...and fanning.

After a few more minutes, she huffed a sigh and snapped her fan shut, turning on the springy seat and beginning to climb in the back.

"Where ya goin'?" he asked with a glance.

"Just keep your eyes on the road, Lieutenant, and I won't have to report you to your superiors," she quipped, knowing he would know she was teasing, and finally making it into the back and shutting the curtain. Closing the back curtain also, she began rummaging around in her trunk for something more suitable – which she grudgingly agreed she needed.

Finally at the bottom, she came across a thin, a lightweight cotton blouse and skirt. These would do. Struggling against the swaying and bouncing of the wagon, she proceeded to release the buttons on the back of her dress and wriggled out of it.

Then as she picked up the blouse, she glanced down at her corset. The thing was extremely tight and tremendously uncomfortable in this heat, the whalebone gouging her skin. Dare she remove it and just wear a chemise under the blouse? What would Sully think?

She closed her eyes as she imagined her mother's shock at such lewd behavior. But then, Sully was right, she could very well pass out from the heat – and then what? Sully would undoubtedly have to loosen her clothing as well as the corset to cool her off – and that would be worse! She shook her head to that idea and began unlacing the offending object.

Taking in a deep, fortifying breath once the garment was discarded, Michaela quickly donned her chemise, slipped on the blouse and skirt, and swiftly gathered her hair into a large 'bun', very glad to lift the long, hot tresses off her neck and back.

Several minutes later, the curtains parted and she began climbing back out onto the seat.

Sully was just in the act of taking a drink from his canteen and he glanced over at her, his eyes sweeping down her frame and up again as she settled.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Now ain't that better?" he asked gently, his eyes showing definite pleasure at her choice. For a moment, he allowed his gaze to settle on her chest, which was bouncing with the sway of the wagon, and he knew instantly she had removed her corset. The realization of what he was observing made his body come alive in ways it definitely shouldn't and he quickly averted his eyes back to the road ahead, unconsciously clearing his throat.

She glanced at him and inclined her head in agreement. "Yes, thank you."

He smiled at the soft tone of her voice and took both reins in one hand to loosen his neckerchief and wipe his face with it, which had suddenly gained even more perspiration.

Watching him, she realized his wool uniform coat was buttoned clear up to his neck, his blue pants with the gold side stripes damp with sweat. With a mischievous grin, she turned her head to the road again, remarking offhandedly, "You could do with a bit of your own advice, Lieutenant. That wool coat must be beastly in this heat."

His lips rose in a half grin as he glanced at her. "It's regulation."

"Mmm hmm. But as you said... 'It's _real_ hot out here, and there _ain't nobody_ to impress'..." she quoted him in a near perfect mimic of his dialect.

Amused, he gave a short chuckle. "True." Glancing around to see where their escort riders were, he proceeded to loosen the top three buttons on his uniform, spreading the material open, very glad for the immediate cooling effect.

"Better?" she asked sweetly. He glanced over at her and surprised her with a wink.

Chuckling together, they rode on in companionable silence.

Thinking about her eventual destination, Michaela turned her head several minutes later and glanced at his profile.

"Tell me about Colorado Springs, Sully..."

Pursing his lips in thought as he decided what to tell her – and what to leave out, he began, "Well...it's not very big, just three short streets...got a boardin' house, saloon, mercantile, barbershop, livery, telegraph office...church," he paused, thinking of the graveyard next to that structure.

"Tell me about the people...you mentioned a Charlotte Cooper..." she prompted, wondering about this female who wrote him regularly.

Sully smiled and nodded. "Charlotte. The Widow Cooper. She's got three kids – Matthew, Colleen and Brian. She runs the boardin' house and she's the town midwife, too," he added softly, clamping his teeth as he steered his mind away from his experience with Charlotte in that capacity.

"Oh, that's wonderful. I look forward to meeting her," she answered, relieved that Charlotte sounded too old to be sweet on Sully. "Who else?"

"Well...there's Hank that runs the saloon...he's kinda rough around the edges. There's Jake, the barber, and Robert E., the blacksmith..." he paused for a moment, and then continued, "And Loren Bray, he owns the mercantile."

For the next little while, he told her about other townsfolk, events that had happened in the town, surrounding countryside and its proximity to the beautiful Pike's Peak, and more.

"It sounds lovely," she mused, imagining a quaint little English hamlet.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't call it _lovely_..." he returned, picturing six inches of mud in the streets after a rain.

She remained silent for a few minutes, trying to bolster her nerve to ask him something that was burning in her mind. Finally, she took a deep breath, stealing a glance at his profile as she asked, "Is there anyone else of interest in town? Any...single, eligible females?"

He had no idea, of course, that she even knew Abby's name, and he grinned at this query.

"Out west there's twenty men to every woman, and Colorado Springs ain't got no single females."

Her eyes twinkled, relieved that this _Abby_ must not live there.

"That's a shame. Every town should have at _least_ one."

He glanced at her, noticing the teasing twinkle in her eyes, and immediately a jealous wave rose up from his gut to his chest as he pictured Jake, Hank, or the Reverend drooling over _his_ beautiful Michaela. The fact that he had not staked any kind of claim on her, he conveniently overlooked.

"Yeah, well...you just watch yourself...out west there's lots 'a _wolves,_ too. Sometimes in sheep's clothes."

"Thank you, Sully, I shall. But...the east has its own wolves...however, most of them usually wear top hat and tails," she added with a wry grin.

He glanced her way and they both dissolved in chuckles.

After that, they lapsed into silence again, just content to ride along on the wagon seat, by necessity their thighs occasionally rubbing on the narrow surface. This heightened the awareness for each of them and secret, _shameful,_ thoughts and images came to the forefronts of each of their minds. Michaela fanned herself and purposefully concentrated on the passing scenery.

Thinking of her soon-to-be home, she murmured, "Do you think Charlotte, being the midwife, will accept me as a doctor? Or...will she see me as crowding in on her business?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Charlotte 'll be glad to have ya. She's said many times she wished... we had a doctor nearby..." he added softly, the memories threatening to overtake him.

After that, Sully retreated into himself, his thoughts brooding over his dead wife and child. Then his mood sunk even lower with the horrible memories of what happened when the Indian he was targeting unexpectedly moved. The images made him cringe and he clamped his teeth, tightening his hold on the reins and causing the horses to side step.

Michaela glanced at him, but when she saw his closed expression, she decided to leave him alone with his thoughts.

OOOOOOO

"I'll take first watch. You two can get some shuteye," Sully offered as he sipped a cup of coffee at their campfire that night. They had traveled until the sun began its descent, then Sully ordered they make camp near a slow running stream. After their discussion about Charlotte, Sully hadn't said another word the rest of the ride, but had sunk deeper and deeper into the world of his thoughts.

Michaela was very glad to get down from the wagon and stretch her legs, and even more happy to be able to freshen up a little farther downstream as one of the men, the corporal, stood guard with his back to the lady doctor.

Now, watching the corporal and private spread their bedrolls out and recline on the other side of the fire, a cool evening breeze blew through their camp and Michaela drew her shawl tighter.

Sully noticed. "Cold?" he murmured.

She smiled and shook her head. "No, it feels wonderful after so many hours riding in the heat."

"Yeah...I know what ya mean."

Not wishing to keep the troopers awake, she decided she might as well go to bed herself. Standing up, she murmured, "Well, I suppose I should turn in, too..." then glanced a little ways downstream.

"If ya need ta...use the 'facilities'...I'll go with ya," Sully offered, knowing she would know he meant he would keep his back turned.

"That would be nice...thank you."

Carefully, they made their way downstream, out of sight and hearing of the camp. Michaela washed quickly and tended to business standing in knee-deep water. Then as she turned to climb out, she nearly lost her footing, letting out a startled yelp.

Quick as a flash, Sully turned around and reached for her hand, saving her from plunging totally into the water as he yanked her toward him, catching her against his body.

They each gasped with the electricity of their contact – it happened each time they touched. But now, in the dark, alone, their attraction became almost too strong to ignore. Too strong for Sully...and with a soft groan, he leaned downward, pressing his lips sensually to hers, fulfilling a desire he had fought the entire day. She melted against him and returned the kiss, giving in to the desire she had also fought the daylong.

The kiss deepened and soon Michaela felt the tip of Sully's tongue caressing her lips, begging entrance. With only slight hesitation, she opened to him, glorying in the feel of his intimate kiss as tingles instantly began to roam up and down her body. Of their own accord, his hands found their way into the confines of her hair, dislodging pins and causing the long tresses to begin to tumble in disarray.

Never had David, or any man, kissed her with such passion. She felt lightheaded and as his hands moved down her neck and back, found herself wanting the kiss to go on forever...she wanted him to pull her even closer to him. That thought jolted her back to reality, and her hands began to push against his chest as she moved to break their kiss.

"Oh Sully, I'm sorry...what you must think of me..." she murmured as she pulled back, fairly breathless.

"No, I'm sorry...I was outta line...I..." He immediately countered, his hands moving to gently caress her arms.

"No you weren't..." she argued softly, scrambling for the right words to say, as she was still reeling from the full impact of his tongue's passionate invasion.

His face took on a pained look, barely discernable in the moonlight, but Michaela caught it and she opened her mouth to reassure him again, not wishing him to think he had overstepped any bounds by his actions – she had wanted the kiss just as much as he.

"I...I enjoyed it," she admitted softly, feeling a slight blush rushing to her cheeks.

"You probably wouldn't have if you knew..." he paused, wrestling with his conscience, the memory of his promise to Abby...and the horrible sin he had committed.

"Knew what?" she murmured, still standing within his arms.

He released her and moved back a step, his sigh heavy. He had to tell _someone_...he was going out of his mind tossing it back and forth trying to decide if he should or he shouldn't...if he _could_ or he _couldn't. _Besides_, _Michaela was the only person on earth who knew about that night. Not even the Colonel knew the details. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and took the plunge...

"After what happened on my last mission...if you hadn't been at the fort...I swear I woulda just kept ridin' that night." He paused, trying to see her expression in the moonlight.

She was staring at him expectantly, but certainly wasn't prepared for what he was about to say.

"Michaela, I...I'm thinkin' about desertin'."


	12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

After breakfast the next morning, Sully helped Michaela up into the wagon and they set off once again on their journey to Bowie.

The previous night, after Sully had dropped such a bomb shell on an unsuspecting Michaela, neither had known what to say further on the subject, and had merely walked together back to the campsite. Michaela had bid Sully a caring goodnight and thoughtfully climbed up in the back of the wagon, to spend a fitful night trying to sleep while Sully's predicament roamed around and around inside her mind.

Thus far, they hadn't had a chance to even try to discuss anything private. Now, Michaela glanced at his stoic profile as the wagon bumped along the trail.

"What are you going to do, Sully?" she whispered.

Sully glanced both ways, making sure their escort riders were far enough away to not overhear their conversation.

"I don't know _what_ I'm gonna do, but I gotta do _somethin'_. I can't keep doin' this," he declared firmly, turning his head to meet Michaela's eyes. "I'm the only sharpshooter Ft. Lowell has right now and I know I'll be sent on more missions. But I don't have the stomach to kill Indians anymore – despite One Eye attackin' and almost killin' _me_. Maybe I deserved that," he added softly, the images clear as a photograph in his mind. Especially the image of the one detail he omitted in his narrative to Michaela. A detail his mind, heart, and stomach absolutely recoiled from each time the images returned.

"Sully, you were merely following orders," Michaela countered. "You had no idea he would move like that. Had you known, you would never have squeezed the trigger. You have to forgive yourself – it was a mistake, an accident..."

"You weren't there! It weren't _you_ that did the shootin'," he immediately returned, but softened as he saw the flash of hurt in her eyes. "Sorry...didn't mean ta take it out on you," he added with a sigh.

"That's alright," she comforted, reaching to lay a soft hand on his arm. She watched him as he fought to get a handle on his emotions again. The wheels of her mind turning even faster than the wagon wheels beneath them, Michaela weighed her options. Go on about her life, always wondering what Sully had decided and what had happened to him...and where he was, if he was safe. Or be instrumental in helping him. Perhaps it would give them a way to be together...that is...if Sully felt about her the way she _hoped_ he did.

She would have to choose – and she didn't have much time to ponder. A wry smile crossed her face as she realized how many times she had thought those particular words since she had met the enigmatic lieutenant. _Choose_. Taking in a deep breath, her decision made in response to a sudden clear picture of the future, she turned to him again.

"All we have to do is think of a way that you can get away without having to trust Corporal Green and Private Curtis to keep your secret."

"WE? What's this _we_? I ain't lettin' you help me in this – it's a federal offense to help a United States soldier desert his post!" he argued in a fierce whisper.

She smiled into his eyes. "I don't care. I _want_ to help you, Sully. Remember? We have a debt on each other," she teased softly.

Their gazes met and held.

Finally he chuckled softly and shook his head. "I sure ain't never met a woman like you before..."

"And you never will _again_," she returned with a grin and a raised eyebrow. "Now, let me think about this for awhile. We'll come up with something."

He turned his head and gazed at her lovely profile, chin up, lips pursed in thought.

"I can't believe you wanna do this...I thought you'd be shocked or somethin'."

She thought about that, knowing he was right. Truth and obedience had always been very important things in her life, and cornerstones of her character.

"Well...normally I wouldn't condone breaking the law or breaking rules...but...have you ever read Thoreau?" she queried thoughtfully.

"What's that?" he replied with a blank look.

"Henry David Thoreau. He was an author, poet, and philosopher..." she began, and he nodded. "And in his essay Civil Disobedience, he made the point that some laws are unjust, and that people have a moral obligation to stand in opposition to an unjust law, or rule...or governing body. He said that individuals should not permit governments or figures of authority to overrule their consciences, and that in such a state, the only place for a 'just' man would be a prison."

Sully smirked softly and shook his head. "Yeah. That's just what I'm afraid of...for your sake as well as mine. I can't stand the thought 'a you goin' to prison 'cause you helped me..."

Michaela grinned and reached to squeeze his arm. "We'll just have to make sure that we don't get caught, hmm?"

Sully grinned back and shook his head in pure amazement at this beautiful woman by his side. The thought assailed him that if he _did_ desert, he would be a wanted man for the rest of his life...how could he then ever ask her to be a part of it with him? The thought was sobering. But the alternative, staying in for another two years of his four-year hitch and being sent on more 'sniper' missions, was out of the question. He was literally between the proverbial 'rock and hard place.'

OOOOOOO

That evening, after brainstorming different scenarios and rejecting each one, the two, with their escorts, made camp for the last night of the trip.

"Tomorrow about noon we should get to Bowie," Sully commented to his three companions as they enjoyed the last of the cook's cuisine.

"Yeah. I'll be glad ta get back to the fort, it's dang hot ridin' all day in the hot sun," Private Curtis returned. The corporal mumbled agreement.

Michaela and Sully glanced at each other, both thinking they didn't have much time left to come up with a plan, some way to give the troopers the slip long enough for Sully to get away...

Thirty minutes later after small talk was exhausted and an awkward silence ensued, Sully reached to place another log on the campfire. "Well, let's go on and turn in," he ordered. "Private Curtis, you take the first watch."

"Yes sir, Lieutenant sir," the young recruit, barely eighteen, responded automatically, and immediately reached for his rifle as he made to stand. Just then, a rabbit jumped from its hiding place behind the rock the rifle was leaning against and hopped away. It startled the young soldier, and he grasped the weapon wrong, causing it to discharge.

Michaela screamed, startled at the loud sound.

Turning, she saw Sully had been thrown backwards by the force of the shot. "Sully!" she screamed again, scrambling to his side in the darkness. He lay motionless on the ground.

"Awmugawd, Lieutenant!" the private yelled, falling to his knees at Sully's other side, Corporal Green arriving seconds later.

"Sully!" Michaela squealed, immediately feeling for a pulse in his neck. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered with blood. "Oh my God," she whispered, afraid that he had been shot in the neck...possibly his jugular vein. If so, she wasn't sure she would be able to stop the flow of blood soon enough, out in the wilderness with very little in the way of medical supplies – only what she carried in her bag.

"You dang stupid kid!" the corporal yelled, shoving the private backward in anger as he crouched by his stricken commander. "You shot the Lieutenant!

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean ta, the rifle just went off!" the private defended, though he knew that was unacceptable. One of the first things new recruits are taught is how to safely care for their weapon. He swallowed nervously, knowing he was in BIG trouble for this. He prayed Lieutenant Sully was alive.

Mercifully, Sully's eyes fluttered open as he regained consciousness and he saw his companions hovering over him, staring at him as if they thought he was dead.

"Wha...what happened?" he stammered, fighting dizziness as he tried to sit up.

"No! Just lie still," Michaela commanded, pressing on his chest with both hands. Then glancing across him to the corporal, she ordered, "Hold him, don't let him move. I'll get my bag." He nodded and placed his hands on Sully's chest as she jumped up and ran to the wagon.

"M..Michaela?" Sully mumbled, lifting a hand and feeling the blood at his throat. It was already soaking the top of his coat.

"I..I'm sorry, Lieutenant. My rifle went off. I sure didn't mean ta shoot ya," the young private bleated as he saw the blood, nearly in tears as remorse for his carelessness hit him full force.

"You go take care 'a the horses," Corporal Green muttered, glaring at the young soldier and just wanting him out of his sight while he and the doctor tended to the lieutenant.

"Yes, sir," he responded softly, as he got up and moved away, his head hung low.

Returning in seconds with an oil lantern and her black physician's bag, having it already open and digging through it for anything she could use, Michaela handed the lantern to the corporal.

"Please – light this for me so that I can see the extent of his wound."

"I'm alright, Michaela," Sully protested as he tried again to sit up, not realizing that he was addressing her so familiarly in front of the corporal.

She shushed him immediately, the physician inside her having fully taken over. "I'll be the judge of that, you just lie still."

He obeyed with a sigh, lowering himself back down flat again. The corporal lit the lantern and as the light illuminated the lieutenant's prone body, Michaela instructed the soldier to unbutton Sully's coat and help her get him out of it. The private, lurking at the periphery, hurried to secure Sully's bedroll and laid it out for him to lie down on.

"Hold the lantern...closer...there," Michaela instructed, finally getting a look at the wound that was pouring blood. The bullet grazed his neck just below his left ear, taking a rather large chunk of skin. The wound was slightly deep, but not deep enough to have hit the external jugular vein, as she had feared. With practiced hands, Michaela felt along Sully's head, finding the beginnings of a fairly large lump on the back of his skull.

"You've hit your head, also," Michaela murmured, her hands expertly feeling the lump. You might have a concussion."

"So maybe that's why I got such a headache, huh?" he muttered, lifting his right hand to try and rub the pain away.

Michaela blanched as a thought registered. She glanced at the corporal, then down at Sully as he lay with his eyes shut, rubbing his head.

"Sully...I need to stitch the wound closed...but due to you having a possible concussion...I can't give you chloroform, or even laudanum..."

He opened his eyes and gazed into hers, seeing the anguish due to knowing she was going to have to cause him more pain.

"S'okay. I can take it," he assured.

Corporal Green and Private Curtis both cringed at the thought of having to be stitched up with no painkiller administered. They didn't even have a bottle of whiskey to offer the Lieutenant. The corporal shook his head slowly, his admiration rising even higher for his superior officer.

"Are you sure?" she whispered, even as she prepared the needle and surgical thread.

"Yeah...just do it," he murmured, the pain in his head worsening, threatening to balloon into one of his debilitating headaches. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't.

The corporal reached for a small stick, placing it near Sully's mouth. "Here Lieutenant...bite down on this." Sully flashed a grateful look at his troop mate and opened his mouth, adjusting the small piece of wood between his teeth and biting down hard.

Taking a clean cloth and patting the blood away, Michaela disinfected the area the best she could.

When everything was ready, Michaela glanced at the other men, then down into Sully's already pain-laced eyes. His precious blood was still flowing and she knew she had no choice. He had so recently lost a substantial amount of blood from the knife wound...

"Are you ready?" she asked softly. He nodded, closing his eyes and concentrating on biting the stick.

"I'll be as quick as I can," she murmured as she set to work. It was one of the hardest things she had ever done, to continue stitch after stitch, her teeth clamped shut, wincing with each of Sully's soft moans of pain.

OOOOOOO

"Okay, what next?" Sully tiredly mumbled, pressing the heel of one hand against one eye. He and Michaela had been quietly talking most of the night, as she needed to keep him awake in case of concussion. They were sitting together in the wagon under the canvas top, both troopers asleep by the campfire, as Sully had told them there was no sense in all of them staying awake.

Michaela yawned, placing a hand delicately in front of her mouth. "Oh, I don't know. We've exhausted just about every topic imaginable, wouldn't you say?" she teased softly.

"Jus' about," he agreed with a sigh. Then casting a glance at her in the dim light of the lantern, seeing how weary she was – though not one word of complaint – he smiled softly, but remembered not to shake his head, as that uncomfortably pulled the stitches in his neck.

"Thanks for helpin' me stay awake," he murmured. She met his eyes, smiled tiredly, and reached for one of his hands.

"That's what friends are for...and besides... I'm a doctor," she returned, silently thinking she would do such a thing for any patient...but he was far more than just a 'patient.'

"Then I'm lucky, I guess," he replied, grinning, and then wincing as the movement caused pain around the stitches.

She immediately leaned toward him in concern. "Are the stitches bothering you?"

He shrugged carefully. "Only when I move wrong."

"I'm afraid with the raggedness of the wound, it's liable to leave a scar...it's different than sewing up an incision. I did get high marks for that in medical school...although my friend Miriam bested me. She once stitched up my knee when I fell down some stairs and you can barely see it."

"That a fact," he murmured, his eyes flicking over her skirt covered knee and then up to her face as he wondered if there would ever come a day when he would have the chance or the right to see that scar.

"It certainly is," she replied, meeting his gaze, and then turning a little pink when she correctly read his thoughts.

Suddenly sobering, Michaela leaned closer, whispering to make sure they weren't overheard.

"Sully...are you sure you want to go through with...?"

He scanned her eyes, trying to discern her thoughts. "Yeah...I never been more sure of anything in my life...but what about _you_? If you changed your mind...I won't begrudge..."

"No, of course I haven't changed my mind," she immediately injected. "And I'm sure we will think of something after we reach Bowie. We'll just have to make sure nothing goes wrong," she whispered, then held up a finger for him to wait, crawled to the back of the wagon and leaned her head out to check on the sleeping troopers, then scooted back to her compatriot.

"Now...when we get to Bowie..."

* * *

_A/N: Sully's injury was inspired by a conversation on the forum about a scar Joe has on his neck. None of us know how he got it, how old he was, or anything, and someone quipped that a fanfic writer should include it in a story. So, lol, I did. _


	13. Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

"Help him inside, Corporal," Michaela instructed, holding the door open for Corporal Green to assist Sully, who appeared very unsteady on his feet, even stumbling over the threshold.

"Is he gonna be alright, Dr. Mike?" Private Curtis asked as he carried some of Michaela's belongings into the Casa De Lando, the small hotel in the tiny town of Bowie.

"I don't know, Private Curtis," Michaela answered, her eyes trained on Sully. "But I assure you, I will do everything in my power to make sure."

"Dottoressa Quinn!" a voice called from within the establishment.

Michaela turned and smiled at her Italian friend, Lina De Lando, whom she had befriended during her long stay as she waited for transport five months before. She and her husband, Matteo, owned the hotel.

"Lina, how are you?" Michaela greeted with a smile, though immediately sobered and turned to glance again at Sully, who was weaving a little as the corporal helped him stand.

"I hope you have room...we need to get the lieutenant in a bed. He's been injured and..."

"Yes, of course, Dottoressa Quinn," the woman interrupted, concerned. "Please, do bring him in here," she instructed the corporal, leading the way to a downstairs room. The corporal obliged, maneuvering his superior officer inside and helping him lie down on the bed.

"What has happened to him?" Lina asked as she stood back, watching the proceedings.

"There was an incident..." Michaela began, glancing at the private, not wishing to make the young man feel worse than he already did. "A rifle discharged accidentally, the bullet grazing the lieutenant's neck. I'm afraid it's becoming infected." Glancing at the corporal, who was still assisting Sully, she added, "What concerns me is he is still recovering from a recent bout with poison, fever, and extreme loss of blood..."

" Oh, Santo cielo!" the woman murmured, shaking her head and quickly making the sign of the Cross. "The poor man! Tell me what it is that I can do to help. My husband and I are at your service," she vowed in her charmingly warm Italian accent, turning to direct the private to carry Michaela's trunk to the room next door to Sully's. Just then, her husband came from the back part of the hotel.

"I appreciate that," Michaela replied sincerely. "If you could bring me some hot water, and also show me where I can get some cloth to make clean bandages, or at least wash the ones I have, I..."

"I will take care of that for you, my friend!" Lina immediately interjected. "My husband and I owe you so much...the way you took care of our son's leg when you were here last. He is as good as new. We are in your debt."

Matteo nodded in full agreement. "I will bring you the hot water, immediatamente," he offered as he saw the condition of the lieutenant. He turned and quickly retraced his steps back to the kitchen.

Michaela smiled and clasped her friend's hands for a moment. "Thank you, Lina. And I'm very pleased to hear your son is recovered."

The woman smiled sincerely, and glanced at the bed where the lieutenant lay with his eyes closed, a large bandage around his neck and one at the back of his head. She crossed herself again and quickly left to fulfill the doctor's requests for clean bandages.

The corporal, cap in hand, stared at the lieutenant, glanced at Michaela, then back at the lieutenant again, clearly unsure of his next move. The original orders had been for the three soldiers to deliver the lady doctor to Bowie and immediately head back to the fort.

"Um...Lieutenant, sir..." he began softly.

Michaela moved near the bed, reaching for one of Sully's wrists to begin taking his pulse while surreptitiously watching the corporal's expressions. Sully opened his eyes a bit and looked at the corporal, one hand lifting to his head. "Yeah?" he whispered.

"Um...me and Private Curtis'll check on you later..."

Sully acknowledged him with slight nod, wincing as his stitches pulled.

"Thank you, Corporal Green," Michaela responded.

"You, uh, take good care of the lieutenant, Dr. Mike," the man added as he placed his cap on his head.

"I surely will, to the best of my ability," she vowed, meaning those words with everything in her heart.

She watched as he turned once more to Sully, crisply saluting his stricken superior.

Sully weakly turned the hand at his head to return the corporal's salute, watching as the man quietly went out the door and closed it behind him.

Hearing the corporal's steps down the hallway, Sully began to sit up, relieved. "Good, now I can..."

"No, no – you lie back down. We must be careful," Michaela cautioned quietly, moving quickly to lay a hand on his chest to prevent him from rising.

"Aw, Michaela. This thing's aggravatin' me," he groused, tugging at the tight bandage around his neck.

"Here, let me see," she offered, reaching with practiced fingers to check the progress of his wound.

"Your wound is beginning to heal, thank God. Stop that..." she ordered, lightly smacking at his hands as he tried to peel the bandage from around his head. She fought to suppress the urge to smile at the little-boy pout he displayed.

Giving up, he settled back down, submitting as she lit the bedside lamp and held it close to his face and neck. He gazed up at 'Dr. Mike' as she fussed over him, truly one hundred percent the physician. But he wasn't seeing a medical doctor - though he knew she certainly was a good one...he was allowing his eyes to caress her face and hair.

After a few moments, she met those eyes and smiled gently. "I've thought of a plan...I can give you something..."

He searched her eyes, murmuring, "Yeah, what?"

"It's called 'Tincture of Opium,' a strong form of Laudanum. It will make you sleep, lower your heartbeat – it will look as if you're dead. Anyone who observes you will be convinced. Then twelve hours later it will wear off."

His brow furrowed as he considered this. Glancing at the door, his eyes met hers again. "Is it dangerous?"

"Well...I have to be precise. If I give you too little it won't work. If I give you too much...you won't wake up," she finished softly, pressing her lips together and pushing away that thought. She _wouldn't_ let that happen.

The thought slightly unnerved him. "Well, how do you know how much to..." he paused, gesturing with one hand.

"The dosage is figured by age and body mass..."

"Michaela, I don't know about this...I mean, if you get caught...you could go to prison," he murmured, vowing that he would move heaven and earth to prevent that from happening. _I shouldn't 'a got her involved in this, _he upbraided himself silently.

"I know," she conceded, lowering into to a chair beside the bed. "It's up to you, Sully. I'm willing if you are...unless you've changed your mind?" she murmured, one eyebrow arched.

Picturing once again the horrible scene resulting from the consequences of his actions that fateful night, a shudder reverberated down his spine. He vowed that no one would ever know the _whole_ story of what happened that night – not even Michaela. "No...I ain't changed my mind," he admitted with a sigh.

Meeting her eyes, he determined to put his trust...his _life_...in her hands. Swallowing dryly, he murmured, "When should we do it?"

She swallowed a little dryly herself. "I'll go ahead and figure the dosage now...and give it to you later this evening."

Michaela reached for his hand, taking it in both of hers.

Knowing once they took that step there would be no turning back, their eyes locked as they each wondered what would transpire once they put their plan into action.

OOOOOOO

Michaela, a handkerchief delicately pressed to her mouth, stepped out of the hotel's front door. Trembling, she gazed around in the darkness until she spied the fort's wagon parked in the open space past the end of the street, the two troopers sitting by a campfire partaking of their evening meal.

Drawing a knitted shawl around her against the surprisingly cool night breeze, she moved toward them with her heart pounding, and her hands perspiring with nervousness. _This simply MUST work, _she whispered to herself, knowing the success of the plan rested almost entirely on her shoulders.

"Corporal Green?" she ventured when she was close enough.

Both men looked up from their plates expectantly. Noting her expression, however, their faces fell as their hearts sank with dread.

"Yeah, Dr. Mike?" the corporal murmured, setting his plate aside and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his heart hammering.

"Could...could you come?" she asked softly, pressing the hanky once again to her lips.

Both men immediately rose to follow her back to the hotel, their hearts heavy and afraid of what they would find when they entered the lieutenant's room.

Michaela said nothing, just led the way.

She opened the door, her heart squeezing as she saw the very convincing sight of Sully lying motionless. The troopers crossed to the bed, caps in hand, and stared down at the man they both respected.

"I'm afraid after surviving such a serious infection and the recent loss of blood..." she paused, leaving the rest unsaid. They both nodded.

Feeling he should do something to 'make sure,' the corporal stepped closer and bent down, placing his ear against the wool uniform covering Sully's chest. He heard nothing, but was surprised the body was still fairly warm.

"It must have just happened, huh?" he murmured softly.

Michaela nodded and wrapped the shawl tighter around her body, lowering her eyes to the man on the bed as she relived the stomach-dropping moment when Sully had closed his eyes and slipped into unconsciousness. _That was the second time in two weeks I've watched him do that..._ she mused, a shudder passing through her at the thought.

"I killed 'im," Private Curtis whispered, big tears welling up and spilling over onto his boyish face. With his red hair and freckles, he seemed hardly old enough to be a soldier, much less man enough to carry a burden like this.

"God in Heav'n...I KILLED THE LIEUTENANT!" he shouted suddenly, turning and fleeing from the room.

Michaela's gentle heart twisted at the young man's unnecessary anguish and she nearly went after him to tell him the truth. Only the corporal's hand on her arm stopped her.

"I'll go after him," he murmured.

She nodded, the weight of her choice pressing heavily on her conscience. "I'll arrange for the coffin," she whispered, lips dry from nerves.

The corporal nodded, glanced once more at his superior, then turned and went after his troop mate – though he wasn't sure what comfort he could be, realizing the poor kid was going to have to live the rest of his life knowing his carelessness took an innocent man's life. _I wouldn't be surprised if they court-martialed him for this._

Just then, Lina appeared in the doorway, disturbed by the private's shouts, and stood open-mouthed staring at the handsome lieutenant now lying dead.

"Oh! Maria Vergine!" she whispered, quickly making the sign of the Cross and placing her hand against her mouth in shock. "What happened Dottoressa Quinn?" she asked softly.

Michaela quickly weighed her options. She knew she would need an accomplice, and she sincerely hoped her usual ability to judge character wasn't about to let her down. She motioned for the woman to come on inside and shut the door.

Lina did so, slowly approaching the doctor standing next to the lifeless body on the bed.

"Lina...what I am about to tell you now cannot leave this room. I hope I will not be proven wrong...but I'm going to trust you..." Michaela began, her eyes imploring the other woman to understand...and sympathize.

The woman looked from Michaela to the lieutenant and back again.

"Trust me? Dottoressa Quinn...I give you my word, I will not tell a soul anything that you tell me if that is your wish," she declared with the utmost sincerity.

Michaela searched her eyes a few more moments and then she released a sigh of tension.

"First let me ask you...is there a person in town in charge of preparing coffins?"

"Sì, our blacksmith always performs this task."

"Good. I need for him to build one and bring it here, as quickly as possible."

"Sì, I will tell him to make it più in fretta che può," Lina nodded, her eyes repeatedly glancing at the completely still lieutenant.

"And...can you arrange for one hundred or more pounds of grain or feed to be delivered here?" Michaela asked, biting her lip as she waited for the response.

Lina's eyes furrowed for a moment as she considered this request. Then they grew wide and she gasped, "The lieutenant...he is not _dead_?"

Michaela shook her head, and then reached out to grasp the woman by the hand, drawing her to a pair of chairs across the room. When they were seated, Michaela told her as much of the story and reasons as was necessary to get her to understand why Sully – and she as his friend – felt they had no other choice.

Nodding, Lina murmured, "Sì, I understand why the kind lieutenant could not bear this on his...coscienza...how you say in English?"

"On his conscience. Yes, that is exactly it. But...if the truth is discovered...both he and I could go to prison..." she cautioned.

The woman's eyes grew wide again. "Not one word will pass from me, on my honor, Dottoressa Quinn. I will not even tell my husband!"

Michaela smiled softly, leaning to give the kind hotelier a hug.

"Thank you, Lina," she whispered.

The other woman quickly stood and moved toward the door, calling softly over her shoulder, "I will return subito, and with everything you will need!"

Michaela watched the door close behind her, then closed her eyes and prayed she had made the right choice.


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Early the next morning, Michaela nervously approached Corporal Green and hesitantly handed him a folded piece of paper.

He took it in hand and read the words on the lieutenant's death certificate, a little surprised at his first name, having never heard it spoken.

Michaela bit her lip as she waited for any adverse reaction from the man, but none was forthcoming. She had purposely misspelled both their names – writing his as _Bryon_ Sully and hers Michael A Quinn, MD as the attending physician as a bit of a safety measure if needed.

Writing 'heart failure' as the cause of death and signing her name to a 'death certificate' for the man she loved had proven extremely difficult, especially following so closely to the death of the man to whom she had been engaged. The whole thing made her feel quite nervous and guilty, as she abhorred deception for any reason – but this had been absolutely necessary. She had, however, spent some time asking God's forgiveness for her part in deceiving Corporal Green and causing Private Curtis to suffer, plus deceiving the colonel and all of the troopers she had come to know during her time at the fort. But that couldn't be helped. The most important thing was Sully, and she would do everything in her power to protect him.

"I suppose we should proceed," she prompted gently, glancing over at the private, who stood dejectedly behind the corporal, twisting his cap in his hands. Once again, her heart went out to him, and she had to grit her teeth and even clench her fists to stop herself from telling the young man that he had not, in fact, killed his commanding officer.

The three proceeded to the town's small graveyard where, thanks to Mrs. De Lando, the grave had already been dug during the night, and the coffin already moved into place. The corporal was momentarily surprised that he had not been summoned to help deal with the lieutenant's body, but he gave a tiny shrug, actually relieved he had been spared that chore.

The Reverend of the town's tiny church, having no knowledge of the deceased, performed a short service, and the whole thing was over swiftly. The gravediggers lowered the coffin into the hole and began filling it in even as the 'mourners' were walking away.

Minutes later, Michaela and the soldiers said their goodbyes rather solemnly, and she watched as they tied the two horses to the back of the wagon and climbed up on the seat to begin the long ride back to the fort. She could tell the private was dreading the inevitable scene upon their return, but she forced herself to acknowledge that he could have easily killed Sully if the bullet had struck him one inch to the left. So perhaps this would cause the young soldier to be extremely careful with the weapon in the future. In any case, it would be a lesson he would never forget.

As she turned to enter the hotel, Michaela glanced one more time at the cemetery, pausing to watch as one of the men hammered a cross into the ground at the head of the new grave with the words, "Lieutenant Bryon Sully, 1835-1867." The sight made her shiver, despite the already quite warm temperature, and she quickly made her way inside.

OOOOOOO

The lovely green-eyed woman, her waist length brown hair tied back in a tight ponytail, stared down at the figure as he lay on the bed, and mused that she had never seen a more gorgeous looking man.

Having wished to prevent him awakening totally alone and disoriented, Michaela had asked Lina to watch over him while she attended the 'funeral,' and she had readily agreed.

Lina's eyes roamed his features, the smooth tanned skin, the proud chin, the incredibly kissable lips, the long black eyelashes now at rest, the closed lids covering what she knew were amazingly blue eyes, the long wavy hair...the firm muscles under the soft cotton of his 'long johns.' _Such a perfect specimen of a man,_ she thought, switching to Italian in her mind to add a few more overtly descriptive sentences as her eyes caressed their way down his chest, hips, and legs.

_Though I love my husband dearly...this one could almost tempt me to stray..._she mused with a silent nod.She sighed dramatically at this thought, and sat back in the chair, allowing her eyes to continue in the guilty pleasure of feasting upon him from his head to his feet. She paid particular attention to his hands resting across his belly, imagining for a moment what it would be like for them to caress her skin. _Accidenti__, what a man! The woman who captures this one's heart will be lucky indeed..._

Ten minutes later, Michaela let herself silently into the room, her eyes immediately seeking out the still figure of the man on the bed.

"Has he moved?" she asked their Italian friend.

Lina shook her head, standing as Michaela drew near. "Not at all."

Michaela picked up Sully's hand, which was almost cool to the touch, and felt for a pulse in his wrist. It was there, but still very faint and only her experienced physician fingers could have detected it. She was beginning to be a little concerned – it was now approaching thirteen hours since she gave him the rather large dose of medicine...

"Well, I must get to my duties...do you wish that I bring you some breakfast? And for the signore when he wakes up?"

"Thank you, Lina. That would be nice," Michaela answered distractedly, though at the moment she wasn't the least bit hungry. Switching her gaze from Sully to their friend, she added, "Thank you for your assistance...we couldn't have done this without your help, I see that now."

"Lei è il benvenuto...you are welcome, my friend," the woman returned with a friendly smile. "I shall return prontamente." With that and one more lingering glance at the man on the bed, she let herself out the door and closed it gently behind her, carefully glancing both ways to make sure she wasn't observed.

Michaela, still holding Sully's hand, sank down onto the bed next to him to anxiously wait for him to awaken.

OOOOOOO

The room seemed to be slowly swaying as Sully opened eyelids that felt unusually heavy. He could barely focus, and couldn't remember where he was or what was happening. His whole body felt weak and extremely tired, almost disconnected from his brain.

"Sully?" a soft voice sounded to his left. He shifted his eyes a bit and tried to focus on the face that was now hovering above his. Then he remembered...Bowie...the hotel...the bitter tasting liquid Michaela had given him.

_Michaela..._she was now bending over him, her lovely face a picture of relief as her eyes sparkled at seeing him finally coming out of the artificial 'coma.'

"Mmm," he tried to say her name, but his mouth and voice didn't seem to want to work, still under the debilitating effect of the powerful drug.

"Oh Sully...I was beginning to worry that I had..." Michaela stopped, not even wanting to say the words – that she had been afraid she had given him too much of the drug. For the last thirty minutes she had been praying, begging God to forgive them of their deception and to let him awaken. "I'm so thankful you're waking up," she finished, reaching a hand to smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. "How do you feel?"

He opened his mouth, but couldn't seem to make his voice work.

"Here, take a sip of water..." she murmured, slipping her hand under his head and lifting it enough for him to drink. The cool liquid felt like heaven to his parched throat. He drew in a deep breath as Michaela lovingly lowered his head back to the pillow.

"Gr...groggy," he whispered in answer to her question, closing his eyes for a moment to try and make the room stand still.

"That will wear off soon, now that you're awake," she assured, checking his pulse and thankfully finding it strengthening.

After about a minute, he opened his eyes and focused more clearly on her face. She was still staring at him, analyzing his every move, his hand held tightly against her chest.

"Did it work?" he whispered, watching her lips form a relieved smile.

"Perfectly. Corporal Green and Private Curtis are on their way back to the fort. Lieutenant _Bryon_ Sully was laid to rest," she added softly, with a touch of dry humor. "Now, Mr. _Byron_ Sully can begin his new life."

OOOOOOO

A week later, the two stood on the hotel's porch next to the Signora De Lando and smiled at their generous benefactress. True to her word, she had not told a soul about their ruse, not even her husband. She had registered Sully under the name Byron Sullivan and given the two connecting rooms on the second floor rear of the establishment. Michaela and Sully had spent their time in one room or the other, playing chess with a borrowed set – twice during rain storms, or just sitting together and talking, taking an occasional stroll outside once the sun began to set each evening. By unspoken agreement, however, they stayed clear of the graveyard.

"Please, let us pay you for your..." Michaela tried for the third time, but was quickly hushed.

"Do you wish to insult me?" Lina demanded, but the twinkle in her eye belied her teasing.

"But you've done so much..." Sully began.

"It was my pleasure to do this for you," the gracious hotelier responded. "I sympathize totally with how you feel, Signor Sully...as my father experienced something similar when he was pressed into the Austrian army in '31. Some of the things he was forced to do broke his heart and nearly his spirit. A farmer and his wife helped my father desert and he eventually made it to the coast where he was able to secure passage on a ship bound for America. Those people saved my father's life...so, by helping you, I am in a small way repaying their kindness," she explained softly.

Sully reached for the woman's hand, taking it in both of his and clasping it warmly, smiling down into her eyes.

"Thanks, Mrs. De Lando...for everythin'," he murmured sincerely.

"You are most welcome," Lina whispered, momentarily relishing in the guilty pleasure of gazing up into his eyes and feeling his warm hands covering her own. Their touch was every bit as exquisite as she had imagined. But after just a short moment, his eyes turned again to where they normally rested, on the lovely woman at his side, before he stepped off the porch to make sure Michaela's trunk and other things were loaded onto the waiting stage.

Michaela reached with both arms to hug the woman.

"Thank you, Lina. We owe you our lives," she whispered, holding their friend close in heartfelt appreciation. "The plan would have unraveled at the seams without your help."

The hotelier merely smiled and returned Michaela's embrace for a long moment, finally murmuring, "You are a lucky woman, Dottoressa Quinn...in more ways than one." She grinned as Michaela pulled back a little to gaze at her questioningly.

"I have seen the way Signor Sully looks at you..."

Michaela immediately shook her head in denial. "Sully and I are just friends...he's never...I've never..." she stammered, pausing to blush at the knowing look in the other woman's eyes.

"He _will_...I know this. He is perhaps waiting for the _right time_..."

Chuckling self-consciously, Michaela secretly hoped that the handsome 'Signor Sully' would indeed tell her that he loved her. She sincerely hoped their wise benefactress was right.

Just then, Sully stepped up to the porch to take Michaela's hand and lead her to the door of the stagecoach as Lina smiled farewell.

"Please write to me after you are settled...and let me know when it happens," the woman requested, a twinkle in her eye as the two looked back at her – Sully in question, Michaela with a shy grin.

"I shall," she murmured, flashing a glance at her handsome escort and thinking that he looked so different in the 'normal' clothing Lina had provided – cotton pants, a blousy cream colored shirt, brown vest, cowboy boots, gun belt and gun as most men wore out west. His long hair was tied up and stuffed under a black 'cowboy' hat. He had allowed his beard to begin to grow as part of a disguise so that no one who may have seen him as the Lieutenant would recognize him, and his nearly healed injury was camouflaged by a loosely tied neckerchief. He had also adopted the name Byron Sullivan for the trip.

"Goodbye," Michaela called, waving out the coach's window toward their dear friend as the stage pulled away.

They were now on their way to Michaela's new life as a town doctor in Colorado– and Sully returning to a life outside the military.

Neither had any idea exactly what lay ahead.


	15. Chapter 15

**PART TWO: COLORADO**

CHAPTER 15

As the stage rocked along, Michaela was reminded of Mark Twain's description of the mode of transport as being a 'cradle on wheels.' And as someone else had recently stated, a passenger was assured only of, _'fifteen inches of seat, with a fat man on one side, a poor widow on the other, a bandbox over your head, and three or more persons immediately in front, leaning against your knees...'_ Oh how true this description had proven to be. So far they had experienced all of that and more – and it had been the same on her trip west, as well.

Climbing into the conveyance that first day in Bowie, they had been a little concerned at first that they would have to make the trip in such crowded quarters.

Their traveling companions consisted of Ira Bergen, a short, stout, bespectacled accountant with a whiny voice who complained about everything under the sun; Elsa Fielding, a reed-thin 'old maid' schoolteacher who was traveling back to St. Louis after visiting her sister 'out west'; and Mark Evans, a sullen, dour-faced businessman traveling back to New York after an unsuccessful meeting in Tucson, who refused even simple conversation with his coach mates.

Midway through the first day, Sully and Michaela had spent some time on tenterhooks as Ira Bergen, who prided himself on never missing a detail, stared at Sully for long minutes, trying to place where he had seen him before. Needless to say, they were both immensely relieved when the man gave up his quest and went back to complaining about the heat and cramped conditions of their ride.

Only the close proximity of Sully sitting next to Michaela offered her any respite from the tedious boredom of the trip. The constant rocking and the dry dust that nearly drove her mad on the trip west now seemed less of a frustration, as she and her 'best friend' found things to talk about, softly together, as the miles rolled along. They had settled into an easy, comfortable relationship of close friendship, each one keeping their true feelings buried...secretly waiting and hoping the other would confess a deeper emotion.

Sully spent hours telling her in detail about each citizen of the town of Colorado Springs...Hank the saloon owner and his 'girls'...Jake the barber and his frequent alcoholic binges...the Reverend and his mysterious past that no one seemed to know...Robert E. the blacksmith and his wife Grace, who ran a small outdoor café...Horace the telegraph operator...and more. When she asked about who owned the mercantile, he hesitated, a fleeting pained look crossing his features before he launched into a somewhat dry description of Loren Bray, his wife Maude, and his sister Olive, who also owned a cattle ranch just outside of town. Michaela wondered what he wasn't telling her...

Now they had been traveling for days, stopping at first one and then the next far-flung relay station each night when the sun began to set.

As they stopped for the night at relay station number four on the route to the northern part of Utah where they would catch a stage on the Overland Trail that would take them to Colorado Springs, Sully climbed out of the cramped conveyance and turned to lift Michaela down, both gratefully stretching their legs.

"Once again, I'm so thankful to be stopped for the night," she murmured softly as she unsuccessfully tried to brush some of the dust off her traveling dress.

"Yeah, me too," he returned, stretching his arms above his head to try and work a kink out of his back. In doing so, his neckerchief slipped down a bit, revealing his still healing injury, which was shaping up to be a scar despite Michaela's best efforts at tiny stitches. She glanced at him and, though the beard camouflaged it for the most part, she motioned for him to cover it up, as they were still being careful in case any of their fellow passengers had seen the "Lieutenant" with a wound on his neck – especially the disagreeable Mr. Bergen. Sully swiftly readjusted the cloth.

"Oh, I'll be so glad to finally arrive in Colorado Springs!" Michaela sighed, pausing a minute to look out onto the darkening landscape. "To actually be able to take a bath again," she added with a wry smile, longingly thinking of the surprisingly luxurious bathing accommodations the De Landos had built onto their hotel in Bowie, which included a claw foot porcelain tub with its own pump.

"Just like a female, always primpin'," Sully teased, though a hint of a sad look crossed his face.

Michaela watched him for a moment as he reached up to catch her travel bag the driver tossed down.

"Sully?"

"Hmm?" he turned toward her expectantly.

"Um...how long did you live in Colorado Springs? I mean...I know you came from New York..."

Sully squinted at the light of the setting sun, reaching up to make sure his hat still covered his hair. "I came there in '59 with the Pike's Peak rush...then got into minin' for silver..." he explained, rather haltingly. She could tell he was holding something back.

She had been chomping at the bit to ask him about the girl he had mentioned the nights he was delirious with fever. Now suddenly unable to wait any longer, she scrambled for a way to broach the subject.

"Is there...any special girl waiting for you there?" she asked softly, biting her lip as she waited for him to respond.

He pursed his lips and shrugged. "Nope."

"But surely...a man like you...kind, brave...handsome..." she began, stopping when his eyes swept to search hers. "I mean...surely there must have been..." she faltered again, feeling herself blush under his potent stare. When he looked at her that way, she always felt like he was seeing straight into her mind and heart, reading her most intimate thoughts...

Seeing that he wasn't going to offer anything else, she ventured carefully, "Sully...who is Abby?"

She certainly wasn't expecting the virulence of his reaction. His eyes grew large and he actually gasped upon hearing the name. Then his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why you askin' me that? And where'd you hear about _her_?" he practically growled.

Shocked at his intensity, she stammered, "You...when you were delirious...you mentioned her...that you couldn't keep a promise you made to her. What promise, Sully? Faithfulness?" she asked rather recklessly, in truth a little stung at his inference that this subject was none of her business.

Clamping his teeth together so hard that the clenching muscles were clearly visible on his jaw, he thrust her traveling bag into her hands and stalked past her, heading into a stand of trees behind the station.

"Where are you going?" she cried, alarmed at his reaction.

He neither answered nor acknowledged her question, but merely stalked on until he disappeared into the trees.

With a heavy sigh, she turned toward the station house.

"Where is Mr. Sullivan going?" asked Mr. Bergen in his whiny voice.

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"He's comin' back, ain't he? I can't hold this stage for anybody, paid or not," the driver put in, taking off his hat and whacking it against the hitching post to dislodge some of its dust and dirt.

"I'm sure he will," she assured, though inside she had no idea. The last time Sully had gotten angry with her, he hadn't spoken to her for two whole weeks...

"Did you and your young man have words?" asked Ms. Fielding in an overly solicitous tone.

"He isn't my 'young man'...we are just friends," Michaela protested, but Ms. Fielding and Mr. Bergen exchanged knowing glances and pursed lips as they turned to enter the accommodations for the night, Mr. Bergen for once keeping his opinion to himself.

Michaela sighed again, and shielded her eyes from the setting sun as she tried to catch a glimpse of Sully, but couldn't. Dispirited, she followed the others into the building, wondering about this man with whom she had fallen in love...and what the secret of his past could possibly be.

OOOOOOOO

Sully stormed away from the relay station, in truth shaken to his core by Michaela's innocent question. Part of his problem was that he truthfully hadn't even thought about Abby _once_ since he and Michaela had executed their plan for him to desert - and he felt guilty about that. He hadn't thought about Abby...that is...until _today_ when he had been forced to think and talk about Loren, Maude, and Olive. Then it all came back in living color and it had taken all of his mental and emotional strength to avoid lapsing into brooding silence.

The question had been plaguing him, lurking at the back of his mind – would he be able to return to Colorado Springs and take up residence again? Would the memories be too much? Would the tiny town even be big enough for him to co-exist with Abby's harsh, unforgiving father?

And now, with his feelings for Michaela so deep, so pronounced...he knew he had to tell her about his past. Heck, she'd find out anyway once she settled in town. It would be better if she heard it from him.

Memories of his and Loren's last confrontation surfaced again and Sully grimaced uncontrollably as he relived the scene.

"YOU! You killed my daughter!" Loren had bellowed at him, shaking a finger right in Sully's face. "My baby girl! My pretty little baby – I loved her so much. It's all your fault!"

"_I loved her_! I wouldn't 'a hurt her for nothin'!" Sully had bellowed just as loudly.

"You married her! You got her pregnant! That's what killed her! She was gonna marry Martin Anderson...Martin was gonna work with me here in the store..."

"She had no say in that – she didn't love _him_, she loved _me_-" Sully began, but Loren instantly reacted.

"How DARE you say that to me!" he growled as he lunged at Sully, knocking him from his feet and sending them both sprawling on the ground, wrestling and punching. By now a crowd had gathered. Charlotte pushed in from one side as Maude pushed in from the other.

"Stop this, both of you!" Maude yelled, her normally shy persona taking on the image of a shrew.

"Women die in childbirth sometimes, Loren – and it's nobody's fault but nature's!" Charlotte tried to reason with him, both women trying to grab hold of one or the other unsuccessfully, but enraged and eaten up with bitterness, the old man couldn't hear it.

Finally several men stepped into the fray and grabbed each man by the arms. "I'll _kill_ you!" Loren shouted, panting for breath as the men managed to pull them apart, his clothes rumpled and dirty.

"Go ahead ol' man! You'd be doin' me a favor!" Sully bellowed, gulping in air, his bottom lip split and bleeding, equally rumpled and dirty from the dust of the street. The women stepped between them, Olive joining in as she and Maude tried to reason with Loren. Charlotte stepped in front of Sully, her hands gripping his shoulders as he panted from exertion and trembled with nerves.

"Give him time, Sully. He's hurtin'..."

"And you think I _ain't_?" he bellowed, though immediately regretted the outburst. Charlotte was his friend and one of the few still on his side.

"I think...it might be better if you maybe found someplace else to go...at least for awhile..." Charlotte gently offered...

As Sully came back to the present, he found himself sprawled at the base of a tree, his head in his hands. Darkness surrounded him, and the sounds of crickets and other nocturnal creatures filled his ears. He breathed in deeply of the cool, damp air, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes as if he could squeeze the hated images from his mind. It helped a little.

Sighing, he knew he would have to confront the demons of his past. Joining the army, volunteering for every dangerous mission he could, and nearly losing his life more times than he could count, had not taken care of the problem. His own guilt ate at him...but his wife's father's hatred only made things worse. Maude had always been on his side, but was too timid to go against her blustering, opinionated husband. Olive remained neutral. And Charlotte was just a friend...and the only one who shared the awful memories and even a bit of 'responsibility' of that terrible night.

Heaving another sigh, his mind cycled back to the woman who now occupied the bulk of his thoughts. _Michaela_. He knew he had to tell her this part of his past. He just wasn't sure how she would react...especially after that question earlier about 'faithfulness'...what was she thinking? And more to the point – what exactly had he said during his delirium that would prompt her to ask such a thing?

With a final heaving sigh, he levered himself off the ground and brushed at the back of his pants. He would get this over with – the sooner the better.

Still deep in thought, he moved off in the direction of the station.

OOOOOOO

Michaela sat silently, staring into the low flame of the relay station's fireplace. The rest of the travelers had already retired for the night, and she had just been about to herself after waiting as long as she could for Sully to return. She wondered if he would...or if he would wait for the next stage to come through.

At the sound of the door being gently opened, she looked up anxiously.

There he was, gazing at her from just inside the door, his eyes glinting like dark sapphires in the light from the fireplace. They stared at each other for several long moments, each attempting to weigh the mood of the other.

Finally, Sully pushed away from the door and slowly crossed to her. She followed him with her eyes until he stood directly in front of her, she looking up at his shadowed face.

After a moment, he held out his hand. "Take a walk with me?" he asked softly. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded and placed her hand in his, and together they quietly crossed to the door and outside.

When they were far enough away from the station for privacy, Sully led her to two tree stumps and helped her sit, then lowered himself beside her. Leaning forward, he placed his elbows on his knees, staring out at the vast dark land stretching on either side of the station, lit by the full moon overhead.

She waited silently; drawing her shawl closer around her body, knowing he would speak when he was ready. For now, she was just enjoying the fact that he came back and wanted to talk.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Abby...was my wife. She..." he stopped, drawing in a steadying breath. "She died tryin' ta give birth to our little girl," he whispered, swallowing dryly. "Charlotte, she's the midwife...she did... everything she could. We...we put her in the wagon and tried to take her to Denver...but she..._they_...didn't make it," he added, still whispering haltingly, as if speaking the words with his voice would make them hurt more.

By now, Michaela's eyes had filled with tears. For him and the pain he had gone through...for Abby...for their baby daughter...and for their friend Charlotte – Michaela knew what it was like to lose a patient. It hurt deeply, and it was something you never truly 'got over.'

"Oh Sully...I'm so sorry..." she whispered in response – a response that felt woefully inadequate, but what words could possibly help in the face of such tragedy?

She didn't dare ask him any questions, as she could sense how raw his emotions were...she somehow knew he had been spending the last few hours reliving the whole terrible incident. So she just reached up and wiped the tears from her face with one hand, while leaning to entwine her fingers with his.

He looked down at their entwined hands, and then turned to look into her eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell ya before...it's just...it's hard to talk about," he whispered. "And..._you're_ the first person I've told..."

She nodded and watched as he lifted their hands, turning them so that he could touch his lips to the back of hers.

She wanted so badly to ask him what 'promise' he made to Abby that he now could not keep...but held herself back.

This was enough for now. The other details would be revealed in due time.


	16. Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

Days passed in increasing monotony.

The eclectic group of travelers finally made it far enough into Northern Utah to reach the Overland Trail. There they parted ways for their various destinations and Sully and Michaela caught a stage in Salt Lake City that would take them all the way to Colorado Springs.

The ride on this line was a little more pleasant, as only Michaela, Sully, and two more people boarded the coach. Plus, the added weight of hundreds of pieces of mail resulting from the line's Postal Department contract made it a much smoother, more comfortable ride.

As they crossed into Colorado, Michaela noticed small bands of Indians wearing skins and feathers, but no war colors, grouped together perched on calm horses and watching with interest as the stage passed. The sight left her with a strange combination of fascination and fear, as the entire time she had been in Arizona she hadn't seen one Indian up close, though she had heard dozens of horrifying war stories from the seasoned troopers at the fort.

Her father had taught her that different customs, language or color of skin were not causes for prejudice or hostility, but as she saw real Indians for the first time, she could not reason with the knots in her stomach. Sully seemed to understand her feelings and several times he reached over to reassuringly take her hand in his. She had to admit, she felt quite safe knowing he was near.

After another seven days, one of which was spent cooling their heels during a torrential rainstorm in a station deep inside the Colorado territory, they finally neared their destination...Colorado Springs.

For the last leg of their journey, the two were the only passengers in the conveyance. Not much time was spent conversing, however, as Sully slowly sank deeper and deeper into a brooding silence.

Michaela now felt she understood – he was dreading the moment when he would return to the scene of the most horrific incident of his life. She didn't know the whole story, however, as he still hadn't told her about the rift – the huge gulf – between himself and his wife's father.

Sully became a tightly wound bundle of nerves as they drew closer and closer to the town. His stomach churned more and more with every mile covered, familiar territory viewed from the windows only adding to his angst. He stared out the window, hands curled into fists as he strove to mentally prepare for the worst.

When the stage took the fork in the road two miles from town, Sully swallowed dryly and turned his head to meet Michaela's eyes. She could feel his angst, and saddened to see him in such emotional turmoil, she reached for his hand to offer what comfort she could, as he had done for her many times. No words of reassurance came to mind, so she merely held his eyes to let him see she would be there for him in any way she could.

As the weathered wooden buildings of the tiny town that would now be her home came into view, Michaela turned her anxious gaze out the window. The beautiful Pike's Peak and the surrounding mountains loomed in the distance, but she thought the main street quite short, rutted, and rough. Stray dogs scattered and hitched horses spooked away from the fast moving wheels of the coach. Mud seemed to be everywhere, and swarms of flies hovered on piles of manure in the street. The pungent odor did not add to a feeling of welcome.

The stage rattled to a stop in front of a large storefront with a weathered sign above, which proclaimed it to be, 'Bray's Mercantile.'

As Michaela peered out the window, she spied a sour-faced man coming to the door with an equally dour looking woman beside him. The two glanced at the coach, but could see only two passengers within its dark interior, so the woman wiped her hands on her apron and turned to go back inside.

Sully met Michaela's eyes and she reached once more to take his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Heaving a resigned sigh and thinking, _Well...here goes nothin', _he placed his hat securely on his head, opened the door, hopped down, and turned to assist Michaela. Obviously the town had received the same rainstorm as they had waited out, and Michaela's shoes began to sink disgustingly into the mud in the street. She held tight to her black medical bag and small string purse as Sully helped her over to the wooden sidewalk, keeping his hat-covered head tilted down.

Glancing side to side, he reached up to retrieve her belongings. He had none, other than a few items they had stashed in Michaela's trunk. Now he would have to start over from scratch again. But at least he still had his homestead...he hoped.

"There's Charlotte's boardin' house," Sully murmured, motioning with his head toward a building behind them and to his left. "Should probably getcha settled before ya tell the Reverend you're here."

Michaela nodded and picked up her carpetbag as he hefted her trunk up on one shoulder, grunting from the weight. She hurried along the boardwalk in his wake, trying to ignore the almost malevolent stare of the sour-faced shopkeeper, who exchanged curious looks with the light haired barber just emerging from his corner shop.

Both men wondered about the elegantly dressed woman with her cowboy escort.

OOOOOOO

Sully grunted as he eased the large trunk down on the porch of the boarding house and knocked on the door. "Whatdya got _in_ there, rocks?" he mumbled, reaching up to make sure his hat still hid his face.

Michaela grinned at him. "Mostly just clothing, with a few knick knacks...and books."

Before she could say more, a teenaged boy with blue eyes and light hair opened the door. Sully said nothing, so Michaela smiled and asked, "May I speak with Charlotte Cooper, please?"

The boy's eyes raked Michaela up and down, flicking to the cowboy whom he didn't recognize – mainly due to the large hat obscuring his features, and leaned back to yell, "Ma!" After a moment, he yelled even louder, "MA!"

"Comin'!" Michaela heard from another part of the building. Then the door at the end of the porch opened and a pleasant looking, no-nonsense woman in her early forties stepped out, a live chicken grasped underneath one arm. Her light brown hair had been gathered that morning in a loose bun that was now fraying tiredly at the edges, but her brown eyes were alert. A small boy of about six and a girl about twelve, both adorable and blonde, hovered near.

Smiling, Michaela held out a hand to the woman. "You must be Charlotte. I'm the new doctor, Michaela Quinn, MD."

Charlotte's brow furrowed and her eyes performed a quick once over of the beautiful woman standing on her porch dressed in a fine light gray tailored traveling dress, complete with hat. Her gaze flickered to the unrecognizable man with the lady, then recovering quickly, she transferred the chicken to her other arm and smiled in a friendly manner as she shook with Michaela.

"The Reverend said the new doc's name was _Michael Quinn_..." she pointed out hesitantly.

"That's Michael with an 'a'...my father was expecting a male..." Michaela explained out of habit.

"Who ever heard of a _woman_ doctor?" the older boy smirked, giving the fancy dressed lady another once over and thinking she must be crazy.

"Matthew, _manners_," his mother gently scolded.

"You're a real doctor?" the girl asked, amazed.

"That's right," Michaela answered with a soft smile toward the girl.

"You went to college and everything?" the girl continued, her eyes large with awe and a keen interest. She had never personally known _anyone_ who went to college, much less a _woman._

Michaela grinned, thinking no one had a clue the many things she had to endure to obtain her medical license, opting to merely reply with a wry grin, "_And everything_."

She glanced around then, noticing several of the town's citizens pausing to eavesdrop on their way past.

"Um...might we step inside...we have something to discuss..." Michaela murmured, indicating the silent man behind her.

"Sure thing," Charlotte acquiesced with a questioning look at the man, who stood with his head determinedly down, large hat covering his hair and features. Charlotte stood back and allowed the visitors to come inside the boarding house's large, warm kitchen, closing the door behind them.

Once inside and away from curious onlookers, Sully turned and slowly looked up, finally meeting Charlotte's eyes as his hands rose to remove his hat. Charlotte's gaze widened as she recognized him.

"Why..._Sully_!"

"Mr. Sully!" the two younger kids squealed, instantly moving closer and throwing themselves against him for hugs.

"Hey kids...Matthew," Sully murmured, including the older boy as he returned the embraces, but his eyes had never left Charlotte's.

"Sully...what in tarnation are you _doin'_ here?"

"It's...a...kind of a long story, Charlotte," Sully answered, his eyes boring into hers, trying to let her know he'd rather tell her about it in private.

"Um...oh, I forgot my manners...Dr. Quinn...these are my children, Matthew, Colleen and Brian," Charlotte explained, touching each child as she named them.

Michaela smiled again at the kids, but before another word could be said, Charlotte began ushering the youngsters out of the room. "You go on now. I got some business to tend to," she murmured, opening the interior door and shutting it again behind them, ignoring their pleas to stay and listen.

When they were gone, Charlotte turned to the two, standing side by side. Rather _closely_ side by side. She noticed that the woman kept glancing at Sully, as if waiting for his lead.

Releasing the chicken, which squawked and flapped its way to the corner of the room, Charlotte eyed her two unexpected visitors.

With a raised eyebrow, she murmured, "I'm listenin'."

OOOOOOOO

The three sat in silence as Charlotte mulled over the astounding story Sully and the lady doctor had just dumped in her lap.

Finally drawing in a breath and releasing it in a huff, she murmured, "And the army really thinks you're dead?"

"There's a cross with my name on it in the cemetery in Bowie," Sully confirmed, shuddering as a memory surfaced of finding himself one sleepless night standing above his own 'grave,' and staring at his name reflected in the moonlight. The fact that his name was misspelled on the wooden cross was the only thing that kept it from feeling like an inescapable omen.

Glancing at Michaela for the hundredth time, he lounged back against the chair. One hand fiddled with the edge of his boot that was crossed over one knee, as he nonchalantly draped the other arm behind her chair.

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully, glancing at Michaela, who sat primly in the chair next to her companion, her hands folded demurely in her lap. _Helpin' a man desert from the army is a strange thing for a refined, 'Boston' lady to do..._she mused.

Michaela met her gaze and cleared her throat.

"I suppose it must seem an odd thing for me to do..." she paused, turning her head to meet Sully's eyes. "But...in the short time we've known each other...Sully and I have become quite close...friends," she added quickly, her gaze switching to those of their host. "And when he confided in me...my heart went out to him. Though looking back, I suppose it does seem rather reckless," she finished with a self-conscious half grin.

Sully suppressed a grin as he thought about the reckless things he had seen the prim lady from Boston do in the time he had known her...like racing her horse across the desert.

"And no one else knows about it...other than the lady who runs that hotel? How do you know you can trust her?" Charlotte asked thoughtfully.

Michaela smiled, meeting Sully's eyes again as they both remembered their wonderful Italian 'savior'. "Lina...Mrs. De Lando...is completely trustworthy. She would never reveal our secret."

Sully nodded agreement.

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Michaela glanced between the two, musing, "What about the people here? Will they wonder why he's out of the army two years early?"

"Well...nobody but me knows he was even _in_ the army," Charlotte explained, smiling reassuringly at Sully's questioning look. "I didn't see where it was anybody's business. People think you just couldn't...take it anymore," she added softly.

Sully chuckled softly and shook his head, thinking that was partly true.

The midwife watched him, musing that in his last letter, written just before Michaela came to Ft. Bowie, Sully had confided that he still suffered the dreams and nightmares regarding the death of his wife. Now, however, she didn't think he looked as depressed as he indicated in the letter. Charlotte fleetingly wondered if the lady doctor had anything to do with that, and she found herself hoping that was the case.

Watching them, she could easily read the obvious body language between the two, and she wondered just how 'friendly' the doctor and Sully had become.

Having always harbored a soft spot for Sully, much as if he were her younger brother, Charlotte felt that his bullheaded father-in-law had unfairly blamed him for things that were not his fault. Life just never seemed to work out for the man.

She hoped this time it would.


	17. Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

Michaela felt a lot more like a lady after freshening up in the tiny room on the second floor of the boarding house. Afterwards, she and Sully spent a few minutes discussing his plans, which were mainly to head out to his homestead. Charlotte had assured him it was still there...perhaps in need of a bit of work, but still standing.

Michaela gave Sully his belongings from her trunk, which consisted of his belt with tomahawk and knife, wrapped in a red and black blanket poncho. He had taken the Indian weapons along for extra protection on the trip to Bowie. But not knowing ahead of time that his desire to desert would come to fruition so soon, he had left his chess set and the rest of his belongings in his quarters at the fort.

Their farewell at the door of her room felt a little awkward for them both, after having spent so many days – and nights – in each other's company. Though they were each tired of traveling, both acknowledged silently that they were sad their journey had come to an end.

Michaela wondered fleetingly if she would see him again, but hastily reminded herself that of course she would in a town so small. Sully hemmed and hawed, trying to delay their inevitable parting as long as he could, until finally he bid her goodbye and trudged a trifle sadly down the stairs. She watched him go with the same amount of gloom. It felt odd to them both that he wouldn't be 'with' her everyday, watching over her, being her guard and her 'knight in shining armor.'

An hour later, Charlotte and Michaela, deep in conversation, approached the bridge spanning the creek, and connecting the church and meadow with the town. They could see the Reverend, a rumpled, thirty-ish clergyman wearing black pants, vest, and white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, doing some painting on the outside of the church.

"Reverend," Charlotte called as they cleared the bridge.

He looked up, squinting against the sun, and put the paintbrush down, taking a cloth out of his back pocket and wiping his hands. He noticed the beautiful woman walking with the boarding house owner and wondered who she could be. Having seen the stagecoach come and go a bit earlier, he surmised she was a traveler in need of some spiritual counseling.

"Hello Charlotte," he nodded at her and then at Michaela. "How may I help you ladies?" he asked, flashing his most charming smile.

Michaela returned the smile and offered her hand.

"Hello Reverend Johnson. I'm Michaela Quinn." His brow furrowed, thinking the name sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it.

"M.D." Michaela added. His brows furrowed even more.

"Your new doctor," she offered further. Charlotte remained silent, watching the Reverend's expression and expecting his reaction. She wasn't wrong. His smile disappeared and his hand dropped as he glanced down at Michaela's medical bag he hadn't noticed at first.

"I'm afraid I don't understand...the telegram said _Michael Quinn."_

Michaela, having been forewarned by Charlotte, was ready for this. "No, I believe I spelled it out quite clearly. That's Michael with an 'a'. My father was expecting a male," she added, which was something she usually said to explain her unusual name.

He met Charlotte's eyes, noticing the spark of mirth in them, and refocused on the lovely, definitely _feminine_ doctor.

"So was _I_."

Embarrassed and thinking he would give the telegraph clerk a talking to if he had played a joke on him, he tossed the rag down on the ground next to the can of paint and murmured, "Please, come with me."

"Where to, Reverend?" Charlotte asked as she and Michaela started after the quickly stepping clergyman.

He said nothing, merely kept heading toward the main street of the town. The women glanced at each other and shrugged, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride.

At the telegraph office, the Reverend glanced inside and not seeing Horace, the clerk, he stepped outside and called his name.

"What kin I do fer ya, Revren?" Horace called down from the roof where he was attempting to affect repairs.

"That telegram you received from the doctor in Arizona?"

"The one from that army fort. Yep?"

"How was it signed?" the Reverend asked, glancing to the side at the women.

Horace tilted his head to one side, clearly not understanding the reason for the question.

"Whatcha mean?"

"You didn't change anything?"

"Course not!" Horace, insulted, immediately returned, "'Cept for that initial. Didn't think you'd give a hoot what his middle name was," he explained, the loose skin on his face forming a goofy grin.

Michaela smiled and squinted up at him.

"That middle initial didn't happen to be an 'a', did it?"

"That's right, young lady."

The women both folded their arms over their chests and gazed at the flustered Reverend.

"Well, now you know she's who she says she is," Charlotte offered.

The Reverend was flabbergasted. A _woman_ doctor? And not just a woman, but a beautiful, feminine, delicate _lady_. At least if she would have been big, and tall, and strong it might have made some difference...what a turn of events! And after all of the arguing and persuading it took to get the other 'leading citizens' of the town on board with the idea of advertising for a doctor – with Jake Slicker arguing against it at every turn. And now _this!_

"This is most embarrassing, Miss Quinn. I apologize for the inconvenience. We will, of course, pay your way back to..."

"That won't be necessary, thank you," Michaela politely interrupted. Charlotte had predicted he would do exactly this. "Colorado Springs needs a doctor, and I happen to be one."

"You don't understand...no one's ever heard of a lady doctor out here."

"There's always a first time," Michaela replied right back, quite accustomed to defending her choice of profession. Her time at the fort had not dulled her skills in that regard.

"But Miss..."

"_Doctor_," she corrected, patiently.

"There are no respectable single women in Colorado Springs," the Reverend blustered, grasping at straws. That 'reason' sounded lame even to his ears.

"So I've been told, Reverend. But every town should have at least one, don't you think?"

"The town will never accept a woman doctor," he warned flatly, imagining the reactions of Jake and Loren.

"Reverend...I've worked hard to achieve every milestone in my life – getting accepted into medical school, working alongside male physicians who clearly didn't want me there, and earning my medical degree – _with honors_. I'm sure when this town sees that I am a capable physician, they'll come around."

"All she's askin' for is a chance, Reverend," Charlotte contributed.

Seeing his arguments were falling on deaf ears, the man shrugged and turned to go back to the church, but paused and met Michaela's eyes.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he offered softly.

The ladies silently watched him walk away.

"Well, we see now that the Reverend ain't gonna stick his neck out for ya," Charlotte mumbled as she and Michaela turned toward their next destination – Bray's Mercantile.

Michaela agreed with a nod.

"I hate to say it, but he's right – as far as the men around these parts are concerned," Charlotte continued as they walked along together. "You got enough black marks to last you a spell. Bein' an unmarried lady's one thing, but bein' a woman doctor's another, you'll have Jake Slicker to contend with there..."

"Jake Slicker...the barber?"

Charlotte nodded, glancing over to see Jake lounging against the post outside his door. Michaela looked that way as well. Jake smiled charmingly and nodded. Not knowing yet who the beautiful lady visitor was, he tugged on his vest and reached up to smooth his hair in an attempt to impress.

"Yep," Charlotte replied, smiling at the man. "He's pulled a few teeth, lanced a few boils – and he thinks that makes him a doctor. And he don't want no competition, neither, especially from a woman. Only doctorin' allowed to women 'round here is midwifin'. Lucky for you, the midwife's a reasonable woman," she added with a twinkle.

Michaela met her eye. "She certainly is," she grinned and they both chuckled quietly.

A few moments later, they reached Bray's Mercantile, and went inside. Michaela had written out an advertisement for lodging and a place to set up a medical practice, although Charlotte had told her she was more than welcome to reside at the boarding house.

The people inside, including the proprietor, his wife, and several customers, paused in their actions to stare at the newcomer. Several men at the back of the store whispered to each other and chuckled.

Charlotte escorted Michaela to a small, crude bulletin board on the far wall, which was filled with old, yellowed notices, clippings, and 'Wanted' posters. The ladies stared at it a moment, trying to see how to rearrange what was there to make room for hers.

"What's the problem, Charlotte?" Loren asked from behind his counter.

Charlotte turned and gave him a friendly smile, preparing herself for the firestorm. "No problem, Loren. The doctor here just wants to post a notice."

Loren's eyes popped open large, his mouth dropping. _This lady calls herself a 'doctor?"_

Finally collecting himself, he muttered, "No room."

Charlotte kept her voice friendly. "Seems to me some of these have outlived the people who put 'em up..."

"I ain't got room for no notice from no _woman_ doctor," Loren sneered. "_If_ that's what she is. Could be the saloon would be more accommadatin'..." he added snidely, causing the men from the back, who had wandered up front, to snicker.

"You ain't got manners, Loren," accused a smooth masculine voice. Suddenly, the very air felt charged with tension.

"Sully!" Michaela gasped and turned, not having expected to see him again so soon. He was still wearing the cowboy clothing, but he had removed the hat, though his hair was still tied back tightly.

"YOU!" Loren snarled. "What are you doin' back here? I ran you outta town two years ago. You sure got your nerve comin' here, darkenin' my doorstep!"

Maude, Loren's wife, had moved toward the door as she saw their long absent son-in-law. "Sully..." she murmured, but Loren grabbed her arm and pulled her away from Sully as if he was afraid the younger man would harm her. Maude winced at the pressure of his grip, then winced again and pressed a hand to her chest.

"Maude!" Sully murmured, reaching out a hand toward his deceased wife's mother.

"Ma'am!" Michaela offered, stepping near to see if she could be of help to the obviously stricken woman.

"Don't you touch her, neither of ya!" Loren yelled, shoving his now gasping wife behind him.

"Get out, both of ya!" he yelled again, sweeping an arm toward the door. Then looking scathingly at Michaela, he added, "And if you're a friend 'a _his_, we don't want your kind here."

Sully immediately made to lunge at the hateful man who had always been a thorn in his side, more in Michaela's defense than his own, but Michaela and Charlotte both stepped in the way, each grasping one of his arms.

Together, they managed to bundle him outside into the bright sunshine. Sully was livid, the veins in his neck standing out in reaction to his heightened emotions. His reunion with his former in-laws had gone about like he thought it would... and maybe a little worse. He glanced around in aggravation at the small crowd gathering, drawn by the raised voices. Some people he knew, some he didn't. The ones he knew held back from speaking to him, clearly Loren had poisoned their minds against his missing son-in-law.

"That certainly went well," Michaela joked wryly, glancing behind her to see Loren upbraiding his wife for having the audacity to 'speak' to Sully. He didn't seem to care that she was still clutching her chest. _That poor woman is totally cowed by her husband, _Michaela mused with a sad shake of her head.

"Aww...Loren's bark is worse than his bite. He was just throwed off guard is all – two shockers at once," Charlotte responded, only partly teasing. "He'll warm up. Jus' give 'im time."

"_Time_? It's been _two years_, Charlotte," Sully muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration caused more by how Loren had treated _Michaela_ as it did how he had spoken to him. "And he had no call to speak to Dr. Mike like that."

Sully had gone to pay a visit to his friend, the blacksmith, and had seen the ladies enter the mercantile. Thinking for some misguided reason that he might be of some help to her, he had followed. Now it seemed that not only would Michaela have the disadvantage of being a 'woman doctor', but also the added scourge of being associated with _him_.

"Why is he so angry with you, Sully?" Michaela wondered, unable to imagine him doing anything to warrant such hatred.

Rather than meet her gaze, Sully's eyes met those of their friend, an unspoken exchange speaking volumes between them.

Suddenly, Charlotte took them both by the arms.

"Come on. I got an idea how to solve at least _one_ problem," she announced, leading the way back to her boarding house.


	18. Chapter 18

_AN: Thanks for the wonderful reviews on the previous chapter! I treasured each one. Hope you like this one as well! :) _

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CHAPTER 18

The next day at the boarding house, Colleen and Brian helped carry items out of the large front room their mother had always used for storage, which was located to the right of the outer door that led to the interior stairs. Both kids skidded to a halt on their way out the door, to let Matthew and Sully through as they carried in an old desk Charlotte had been storing in one of the second floor bedrooms.

"Oh good. Put that in this corner," Michaela directed, grabbing a cloth and beginning to wipe the dust from its surface as they lowered it in place.

"What's next?" Sully asked, huffing from exertion and wiping perspiration from his forehead with the back of one arm.

Michaela straightened up and thought for a moment. "Um, I believe there are some shelves and a cabinet Charlotte said I could use. They're in the room directly above," she added with a tiny smile of apology that it necessitated climbing the steep stairs again, knowing the monumental project had been tiring for them all.

Sully met her eyes and grinned softly before turning to make the trip back up the steps, nudging Matthew to accompany him. The boy grunted as he followed, mumbling, "Hope they ain't as heavy as that dang desk."

Michaela smiled at them and then at Charlotte, as her new landlord and friend came through the door with an armful of old sheets she had donated to Michaela's cause.

"Charlotte, I can't thank you enough for allowing me to set up my practice here. It couldn't be more convenient – and right on the main street of town. But, we haven't discussed the rent yet..." she added with her customary half smile.

"Oh...how 'bout a dollar a month each, for this'n and your room upstairs?" Charlotte offered, meeting her new friend's eyes and expecting an argument. She wasn't disappointed.

"That's _all_? But surely..." Michaela sputtered, but the other woman held up a hand to interrupt. "How 'bout we say it's open for negotiation later, once you got'cher practice up and goin'?"

Michaela smiled and shook her head. "All right," she agreed, thinking that despite a rather rocky 'welcome' the day before, it was beginning to seem like she made the right choice in coming to Colorado. In Boston, one would never meet such warm, generous people as Charlotte...and Sully.

Thinking of him, she glanced at her new friend as Charlotte turned from opening the window to allow the long uninhabited room to air out. The two converged at the desk and began the task of tearing an old sheet into strips for bandages.

"Charlotte..." Michaela began hesitantly. "Why does Mr. Bray seem to hate Sully so much? What could he possibly have done to deserve such..." she paused, trying to think of a word potent enough to describe the shopkeeper's vehemence.

Charlotte paused and cocked her head, listening to make sure her son and their friend were not on their way down the stairs. Then meeting Michaela's eyes, she murmured, "Sully came to Colorado in '59 with the Pike's Peak rush...and fell in love with Loren's daughter, Abigail."

Michaela's mouth dropped open at this revelation, and her hands quickly lowered to the surface of the desk to steady herself. _Abby! Abby was the daughter of the stern Mr. Bray? Good heavens..._

Charlotte glanced at the doctor, noting the shocked expression. "Sully tell you anythin' about what happened?"

Closing her mouth, Michaela moistened dry lips as that nagging heaviness she always got when the Abby woman was mentioned instantly began to fill her chest. She nodded. "He...told me she died in childbirth..."

Charlotte paused again, her hands slowly lowering to the desk's surface as she remembered that awful night.

"I did everythin' I could. What she needed was a doctor. But by the time we got her to Denver, she was gone," she murmured, her voice wavering. She blanched as she remembered the enormous amount of blood...the precious baby so blue...Sully's anguished screams. As a midwife, she had lost patients before, dealt with stillborn babies, difficult births...but that night had been one of the very worst she had ever experienced. No one knew that she had nearly quit being a midwife after the trauma of Abigail Sully's death.

Shaking her head and drawing in a breath, she went on, "Anyways, Loren blames Sully."

Michaela sucked in a small breath, shocked. "But...you and I both know women sometimes die in childbirth, even despite a physician's best efforts. It even happens in the best hospitals; sometimes it just can't be helped," she added, trying to ease the burden of guilt she saw in her new friend's eyes. "How could Mr. Bray blame _Sully_?"

Charlotte shrugged with an air of realism. "He's just a bitter old man and wants somebody to take it out on." Then meeting Michaela's eyes, she added, "He resented Sully from the start...and Abigail's death only made it worse."

Michaela stood absently rolling the strips of torn cloth, her opinion of the shopkeeper shifting from dislike to pity. But, her feelings for Sully and knowing the kind of man he was made a protectiveness rise up within her like that of a fierce mother bear. Determined, she met Charlotte's eyes.

"Perhaps I can do something to alleviate that problem."

Charlotte grinned at the indomitable look in Michaela's eyes and she chuckled softly.

"Good luck – you'll need it."

Just then they both heard the footfalls of the guys coming down the stairs with their burdens, and quickly changed the subject.

OOOOOOOO

Later that afternoon, Michaela stood on the porch outside her new clinic bidding Sully goodbye.

"Thank you for all of your help," she offered almost shyly. "I'm so excited...this is my first practice on my own..." she added softly. Then taking a small plaque from the pocket of her apron, she turned and held it up to the wall next to the outer door. Glancing over her shoulder at him with a smile, she asked, "What do you think?"

He studied the tiny sign, squinting at it with one eye as he quipped teasingly, "Not much of a shingle." But then he chuckled at her crestfallen expression. "It's fine, Dr. Mike," he assured, unconsciously slipping into the form of address the children and Charlotte had adopted for their new tenant. He liked it, thinking it suited her spunky personality.

Michaela smiled also, watching as he backed a few paces away and stepped down off the porch. "Well...guess I better be goin'...I still ain't made it out to the homestead yet."

"Oh, please let me know if I can do anything to help," Michaela quickly offered, unconsciously not wanting to let him go.

He nodded, and then turned his head a bit as something caught his attention. Pausing, his expression turned sour as he looked toward the mercantile. Michaela turned to see what caught his eye and saw the shopkeeper standing with broom in hand, glaring hatefully at the two of them. They could feel his malevolence even from a distance.

Turning back to her, the spark of teasing and happiness gone from his eyes, Sully mumbled, "See ya," and turned to walk the other way down the street, his head hung low in a posture of defeat.

Michaela watched him go for a moment before turning again and meeting the shopkeeper's eyes across the distance. He stared back, but the heat of her accusatory gaze pricked his conscience a bit, so he turned away to begin sweeping the porch again, grumbling under his breath.

The reactions of the two men only cemented Michaela's resolve. Perhaps one reason she had felt impressed to come here was to somehow affect reconciliation between those two – at least for Sully's sake. At that moment, however, she had no clue how to accomplish such a feat.

But she had conquered bigger mountains in her life. Squaring her shoulders, she resolved to hike to the top of the 'Byron Sully/Loren Bray' mountain of hurt and bitterness one step at a time - no matter how arduous the journey became.

OOOOOOO

Sully slowly put one foot in front of the other as he trekked along the dirt road, both dreading and anxious to get to his destination.

Having no horse to ease the trip, he walked the distance from town to the homestead, actually grateful for the time alone in which to think and mentally prepare. What would he feel when he saw his and Abby's home again? He was glad that at least there weren't years of memories to torment him – they had lived in town, in Charlotte's boarding house, while Sully worked in the mines, saved money, and built the one room cabin a little at a time, mostly on weekends.

It had taken several years, but finally after four years of marriage – but no children – they had moved into their small home. He smiled sadly as he walked along, remembering Abby helping him build the barn on weeknights and weekends after they moved in.

Then as if nature had waited for the right time, Abby found herself pregnant not long after they had settled in. Once again he smiled sadly, picturing her excitement when she met him at the door after he had dragged himself home one Friday night, filthy with dust and dirt from his mining job, only to have her throw herself into his arms as he walked through the front door.

"Charlotte just left!" she had squealed. "She said we're gonna have a baby, Sully! A baby!" He had tipped back his head and let go a shout of elation as he swung her around, never having felt happier in his life.

Finally – after all those years of drifting from place to place, from New York to California and then to Colorado, and from job to job as he searched for his 'niche' in life – he had a home, a wife, and soon a family. He had resolved that moment to take care of her and the baby to the very best of his ability.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, Sully had become obsessed with being able to provide for his growing family, and he began working longer hours, sometimes double shifts at the mine. He finished the barn and extra touches on the house. He spent evenings when he didn't work a double crafting items for his son or daughter – a rattle, a riding horse, carved animal toys...and of course, a cradle. The baby had become almost his entire focus, other than making sure Abby took care of herself.

Even after the pregnancy was confirmed, however, relations with his wife's father had gotten no better. The prospect of a grandchild hadn't fazed the old man a bit, and Loren had publically disowned his daughter, which hurt Abby terribly. Each time they'd had to go into town for supplies had resulted in Abby once again crying herself to sleep.

The only bright spot had been that her mother, Maude, used to sneak and be with her daughter any time Loren was gone. She had come out to the homestead one evening while Loren was away on business and brought them the deed to the land on which they had built the homestead. Although she had given the land to them as a wedding present, her husband had never allowed her to sign it over.

"He don't have to know I brung it to ya," Maude had murmured to her roundly pregnant daughter as they shared a rare time of closeness and hugs.

Maude had stayed a long time that night, till way past dark, and Sully had insisted he drive her home in the buckboard, his horse tethered to the back.

They had shared pleasant conversation on their ride, and at one point, Maude turned to him and confided, "Sully, I'm mighty glad Abby married _you_ and not that no good Martin Anderson. I never trusted him. Always figured he only wanted ta marry Abby to get control of the store someday. But I can see that you really do love her, and for that, I'm grateful."

Her words had provided a tiny bit of balm for the hurt her husband - Abby's father - had dealt him over the years.

Now, Sully came out of his reverie as the large bushes signaling the entrance to the homestead came into view. His steps faltered for a moment, but he steeled himself and forged ahead.

Soon, he stood gazing at the home he had built – observing its sad state of disrepair and neglect – boards loose on the house, porch rails missing, a window broken, chinking between the logs cracked or missing in several places, the garden Abby had painstakingly cultivated long overgrown in weeds. The whole place was so obviously deserted, the barn door creaking open in the breeze only added to the feeling of abandonment.

He swallowed dryly and closed his eyes, striving to push away the images that were fighting their way to the surface of his memory – carrying Abby to the wagon, Charlotte's fear-filled gaze, glancing back at the house and realizing they had left the front door open in their haste, but not taking time to go back and close it.

He shook his head and opened his eyes again. _I ain't gonna relive it. Not now. Not ever again_.

Drawing in a deep breath, he put one foot in front of the other and walked toward his home, rolling up his sleeves as he went.

There was a lot of work to be done.


	19. Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

Michaela smoothed the spread on the bed in her room as the morning sun streamed through the window. She had been in Colorado Springs for a week now, and had met nearly everyone in town, offering her services as a physician to anyone who would listen. But so far, the reaction had been less than pleasing. What made her feel even worse was she hadn't seen Sully since he turned and walked away after helping her set up her clinic. She wondered how he was faring alone out there in his cabin...if the memories had perhaps been too much for him.

She had gone to church two days after she arrived and Charlotte had tried to introduce her around. A few people were barely polite, but most, including Loren and Jake, made no pretence, snubbing her openly and treating her like a pariah. The women of the town cast sympathetic glances her way, but were physically stopped by their men from even approaching her.

Similar was the somewhat heated exchange she had with the blacksmith. When she had tried to persuade him to let her look at a wound on his hand, he had sneered at her, "I don't wants no _woman_ docta!"

Stung by the vehemence of his refusal, she turned to go, but paused and turned back to face him, staring him in the eye. "Of all the people in this town, I would have thought _you_ would understand what it's like to be judged unfairly!" His surprised expression when she turned to continue down the street told her she had at least made him think.

Michaela tried to tell herself it was a small town, with people that were quite set in their ways. Plus, they were used to tending to themselves with home remedies. However, she had spent the better part of each day sitting at her desk, gazing around at her new clinic's cleanliness, and wishing for there to be activity to cause it to be cluttered.

Actually, she did have several patients...Charlotte's son Brian with a splinter, Horace the telegraph clerk with an ear full of earwax, Emily the seamstress had actually allowed Michaela to examine her son's cough, and even the Reverend who had clumsily ran into a sign and knocked a goose egg on his forehead. None of these, however, had netted her any payment. She was all right for now as far as money went as she still had a goodly sum of her inheritance left, but she knew she would eventually have to survive on the fees she made in her business. _My fee, _she mused with a wry grin. _I have yet to figure out how much that will be._

With a sigh, she straightened up from making the bed and glanced around the plain room that she now called home, musing how it couldn't be more opposite from her lavish bedroom in Boston. This one held only a single bed, a writing table and straight-backed chair, a kerosene lamp, and a chest of drawers. Her trunk sat on the floor in the corner. The only things that made it seem homey were her pictures and figurines she had set out the first night she unpacked. _Home sweet home_, she mused with a tiny touch of melancholy.

Glancing in the mirror over the chest, thinking Charlotte was no doubt in the kitchen preparing breakfast, she reached up to make sure her hair was neat. _Perhaps I'll go downstairs and persuade her to give me another cooking lesson. Perhaps scrambled eggs this time..._

Suddenly the quiet morning was disturbed by a commotion in the street below.

"Hey _Slicker_!" yelled a voice she recognized as belonging to Hank the barkeep. "Got a shot fella!"

Michaela's heart skipped a beat at this. Instantly launching into 'physician mode,' she grabbed her medical bag, yanked her door open, and hurried down the stairs and out the door. Immediately, she spied Hank and some of the other men hovering around a wagon, a man lying prone in the back.

Jake Slicker reached one side of the conveyance just as she pushed through to the other.

"He caught a ricochet slug out huntin'," Hank explained to Jake.

"Step aside please, I'm a doctor," Michaela insisted, already reaching toward the injured man.

"We don't need your help, lady," Jake sneered as he probed the man's shoulder wound quite roughly. The man groaned.

"Bring 'im in my shop," Jake told the bystanders.

"No, bring him to my _clinic_, it's right over there," Michaela insisted, pointing toward the boarding house. The men ignored her as if she wasn't there, pushing her aside as they lifted the man and carried him up the stairs into shop. Most of the crowd followed, all but two bar girls standing near Michaela. The one with auburn hair, large expressive eyes, and beautiful porcelain skin, whom Michaela knew was named Myra, shared a look of empathy with the lady doctor.

Just then Hank turned and saw this, reaching out a long arm to herd the girls back inside the saloon.

"You women, go on, git! Shooo!" he sneered as if talking to stray dogs. They both hung their heads and went back inside.

Shaking her head and flashing an aggravated look at the man's back, Michaela hurried to follow the others, hoping the barber would be able to successfully take the bullet out without causing the wound to become infected. As she stretched to see past the crowd and into the barbershop, a movement off to the side caught her attention and she turned to see Maude, the shopkeeper's wife, press her hand to her chest and nearly fall onto the steps.

Michaela gasped, stepping quickly to the woman's side and helping her to sit. "Are you alright?" she asked as she quickly opened her medical bag and removed an old fashioned stethoscope, applying the end to the semi-conscious Maude's chest. Just as she suspected when she had witnessed this days before, Michaela immediately diagnosed a heart problem.

Suddenly the stethoscope was yanked from her and she was rudely shoved aside by the woman's husband.

"Get away from my wife!"

Michaela grabbed the stethoscope back. "Your wife is ill."

Loren pulled Maude to her feet. "It's just one of her spells."

"Her heart is pounding..." Michaela insisted.

"Just all the 'citement," Maude mumbled, forcing herself to rally as Loren began to hustle her off toward the store.

"You have an arrhythmia..." Michaela began, rising to her feet and reaching out toward the ailing woman.

"Mind your own business!" Loren snapped at her.

Exasperated, Michaela yelled after him, "This _is_ my business!"

Just then, an agonized howl came from the barbershop. Michaela glanced toward the shop, then back to where Maude had just disappeared inside the mercantile, and crossed her arms over her chest, frustrated that she was powerless to help either one.

OOOOOOO

Sully sighed sadly as he knelt in front of the two graves with their simple wooden crosses. _Abigail Sully. Hanna Sully. _This was the first time he had seen their burial places, as before he left to join the army he had not come to the graveyard even once after the funeral. The sight would have made his skin crawl, imagining his beautiful dark haired wife lying dead in a coffin under six feet of heavy earth. And his baby daughter, the child he had hoped for, planned for, made things for...

A commotion in town, voices yelling indistinguishable words, caught his attention for a moment, but he soon refocused. He reached out and pulled several weeds from each grave, staring at the names, and fighting off the familiar feelings of guilt and regret. Every night since he'd come home, trying to sleep in his and Abby's bed, he'd had nightmares, waking up sweating. He knew he couldn't go on like this.

Placing his hands lovingly on the cool mounds of earth as he knelt between them, his heart cried out as tears welled in his eyes. _I'm sorry Abby...and sweet little Hanna...I promised the night you died that I would mourn you forever...never let myself be happy again...that I'd just live my life alone. But...I never figured on meetin' somebody like Michaela. Abby...I need to ask ya...please release me from my promise, and please stop comin' to me in my dreams. Part of me'll always love ya...but I gotta move on now..._

His thoughts making him feel even more guilt and regret, he hung his head and sighed in defeat. What was he going to do?

Finally after long minutes of emotional torment, he raised his head, swiped at the tears on his face, and nodded. He'd made his decision.

OOOOOOO

Michaela stood at the sink with Charlotte, drying dishes from breakfast. Charlotte had, indeed, attempted to teach Michaela how to prepare scrambled eggs, but the doctor had not quite grasped the idea of when to take them off the fire. When the boarding house owner had turned her back for a few minutes, Michaela had somehow managed to scorch the entire batch. Chuckling good naturedly, Charlotte had tossed those out for the town's stray dogs and prepared another batch.

Now as they stood companionably together, making idle chitchat, Michaela looked thoughtfully over at her new friend.

"Charlotte? How did your husband die?"

Charlotte shot her a wry look. "He didn't. He's alive and kickin' for all I know."

Michaela paused in the act of drying a dish and stared at her friend. "But...I've heard the townspeople call you _Widow_ Cooper."

Charlotte smiled fondly as she paused for a moment before resuming her efforts to wipe a plate clean. "That's just their way of...bein' polite."

They glanced at each other, and at Michaela's questioning expression, Charlotte continued, "We had a farm near Topeka. Took us four years to make a go of it, then one day he just up and sold it. Didn't even _ask_ me. Just came in one mornin' and told me we was goin' minin' for gold on Pike's Peak." At Michaela's open-mouthed expression, she added, "When that mine went bust, my husband lost his good sense! One day he just up and _disappeared_...with MY money sock."

Michaela blew out a disgusted breath and shook her head in sympathy.

Charlotte handed her new friend a wet plate, shrugging in resignation. "Ah well. What's done...is _done."_

Michaela nodded as Charlotte cast a questioning eye her way.

"What about _you?_ You ever been married?"

"I was engaged...until a little over a month ago," Michaela admitted, pressing her lips together as she realized how amazing it was that in such a short time she had completely gotten over the death of the man she had promised to marry.

"What happened?" Charlotte asked in sympathy.

"He was a doctor. A captain in the army...stationed at Ft. Lowell..." she paused, glancing at her friend.

"Was?" Charlotte's eyes immediately reacted. "Ft. Lowell? Did Sully...?" she asked, not needing to complete the sentence.

"Yes...they knew each other, of course. Ft. Lowell is a very small garrison."

"Well...why didn't you marry him? I mean..." Charlotte began, realizing she and Sully had not mentioned anything about Michaela's story when they first arrived, it had all been about how they had affected his going AWOL.

Michaela met her eyes, explaining softly, "He was killed."

Charlotte gasped and paused in her work as Michaela continued. "He went to a relay station nearby in response to a plea for medical help. A woman passenger...died in childbirth...the baby, too. David evidently couldn't save them. The husband...went crazy...shot David, and the trooper who was with him..."

She paused as she remembered the horrible incident. Charlotte waited, somehow sure there was more to the story.

"Sully and a patrol were sent to find him," Michaela added quietly.

"Sully found your fiancé...dead?" Charlotte breathed.

Michaela drew her lip between her teeth as she pictured the account as Sully had told her. "Actually...David was still alive when they found him and he...died, practically in Sully's arms," she whispered, a chill quickly running through her as she imagined the scene.

"Good heavens," Charlotte whispered, wondering if there was more to the story between these two than they were saying. It was obvious to her each time she saw them together that a lot had passed between them in a short time. "Is that when you two started gettin' ta be such...good friends?" she queried with a raised eyebrow.

Michaela felt a blush begin to infuse her face and neck as visions of their horseback rides, long talks, chess games...and their heated kisses by the stream that night on the way to Bowie filled her mind. She grabbed another plate and began drying it vigorously, scrambling for an answer. For the briefest moment, her eyes met Charlotte's, who immediately read the intense emotions Michaela was trying so hard to mask.

Charlotte grinned at this, thinking it was just as she had suspected. _Quite a reaction to such a simple question. _Not one to beat around the bush, she paused in the act of washing another plate and fixed her eyes on her new friend.

"Dr. Mike...are you in love with Sully?"

With a gasp, Michaela dropped the plate she had been drying, cringing as it shattered into tiny pieces.

"Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry..." she sputtered, immediately dropping down to pick up the pieces. Charlotte chuckled as she wiped her hands on a towel and reached to grab a broom. _Musta struck a nerve..._

Realizing her plain-spoken new friend could see right through her, Michaela blinked and swallowed hard, wondering if everyone else could so easily see the truth...and if it was also that transparent to Sully himself...

Suddenly, both women became aware of a presence in the room and simultaneously turned their heads. Sully was standing in the dining room doorway.

From the look on his face, he had heard the end of the conversation, but there was something else in his eyes, something Michaela couldn't quite place. She felt her face heat up even more.

"Sully...how are you?" she greeted, hastily rising and moving across the room to him.

As she neared, she immediately forgot her embarrassment as she took in his appearance. He looked emotionally weary and as if he hadn't slept in days. He was wearing disheveled clothing she had never seen, probably from his life before, and a bedroll was slung over his shoulder. He smiled and greeted Charlotte, who returned the greeting with a grin, then continued her task.

Turning his attention to Michaela, Sully reached out and gently grasped one of her hands. "I...I came to tell ya...I'm goin' away for awhile. I mean...I'm gonna go on a, a huntin' trip, set some traps, spend some time alone...away from here," he explained softly.

Michaela's eyes clearly showed her disappointment, as she had missed his company and had looked forward to seeing him in town when things calmed down with his former father-in-law.

"How long will you be gone?" she murmured quietly.

He shrugged and looked down. He had, indeed, heard her conversation and saw her reaction to Charlotte's question. The fact that Michaela had feelings for _him_ somehow only added to his guilt.

He raised his eyes to hers again, willing her to understand. "I...spent some time at the graves today," he whispered. "The homestead...Loren...everythin's just too..." he paused and shook his head, unable to put his thoughts clearly into words – but Michaela understood. Matter of fact, she had felt all week that something was wrong with him and had a pretty good idea what it was. Every time he had crossed her mind, she had felt a heaviness in her own heart. Now she knew she had been picking up on his feelings. Just then, she didn't stop to ponder what that could mean – the two of them having such a soul-to-soul connection.

She nodded and squeezed his hand, letting him know she understood without him having to spell it out. The memories had, as she had feared, been too overwhelming for him.

"Be careful," she offered, knowing she wouldn't be able to talk him out of going. And it might actually do him some good.

His lips curled in a tiny smile that didn't reach his eyes, and he murmured, "I'm always careful."

Then, he leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek in a sweet, prolonged, chaste kiss; mindful of Charlotte's frequent glances their way. Michaela closed her eyes and savored the touch of his soft warm lips lingering for a moment on her skin.

They both secretly wished that they were alone at that moment, each aching to say more. But everything seemed different between them since they had arrived in Colorado Springs.

Michaela fleetingly wondered if the kiss at the creek had been a dream.

Before she could ponder further, he was gone.


	20. Chapter 20

CHATPER 20

Sully sat cross-legged at the top of a high cliff, staring at the scenery. Staring at nothing. Thinking. _Brooding. _ It was so quiet up there, so peaceful, so private. He felt one with nature, away from distractions and memories.

This was the place he always came to find his way. But this time around, his 'way' was being extremely elusive and refusing to be 'found.'

Days had gone by, he wasn't sure how many. The nights had been spent lying on his bedroll staring at the stars until exhaustion overcame him and he dropped off to sleep, trying to make sense of his life and the changes that had been wrought in the space of a few months. He had gone from being a melancholy widower doing his job, to a smitten protector of the lady fair, to a shamed deserter of his troop, to...to what? Now he was nothing. That was his problem. He felt worthless, and as such, he certainly couldn't ask the beautiful, intelligent, accomplished Dr. Michaela Quinn to allow him to court her.

_How can I ask her to be with me_? _She's a cultured, refined lady from Boston, used to the finer things in life. What can I offer her?_ He'd spent nearly every dollar he had on the stage fares from Arizona to Colorado Springs, even foregoing eating much the last few days when he ran so low on money. Michaela had offered to pay, but that had burned his pride so bad he could barely breathe, and he had merely mumbled something about not being very hungry. It was the truth – thinking about his sorry state, and what awaited him at their destination, had left him with virtually no appetite.

Before he joined the army, he had been a silver miner. Now, the thought of spending endless days digging out tiny hunks of the mineral just to line the pockets of the rich mine owners and dragging home each night filthy and exhausted did not appeal to him at all. _So...what now? I gotta figure out somethin' to support myself, but the only work I ever done was dockworker and miner. I did kinda dabble in trades, though...woodworkin', blacksmithin', leather workin', "cowboyin'", but as they say, jack of all, master of none. But I have done a little assay work, plus a little surveyin'. Maybe..._

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt the presence of another person invade his private sanctuary, though he heard no sound, nor any voice of greeting. He sat still for a moment, calculating what to do and how to protect himself, his muscles tensed and alert as adrenaline flooded his system. His heart racing, he swallowed dryly as his eyes searched his peripheral vision for any sign of movement. Then suddenly, he reached for the tomahawk lying near the fire, jumped to his feet, and whirled around, ready to defend against the unknown.

There, twenty feet away, stood an Indian, with a beautiful gray and white wolf sitting calmly at his feet. Oddly, the wolf did not react to Sully's aggressive move. Sully guessed the man was Cheyenne, since he knew that was the tribe on the reservation several miles away. He had never met a Cheyenne in person, only seen them, and other Indian tribes, from afar. The only Indians he had known personally were army scouts, and he had learned from them how to throw a tomahawk and speak a few words in several dialects, plus he could make himself understood quite well using a rudimentary sign language that the Indians themselves practiced between the different tribes.

The Indian appeared to be in his forties, with long silky black hair falling well past his shoulders and wise, kind eyes. A feather dangled from a tiny braid in his hair. He wore a long loincloth and leggings, and his chest was bare except for several long necklaces and a leather pouch hanging from a cord around his neck that Sully knew was what they called a 'medicine bag.' The man stood perfectly still, just gazing back at Sully. The look in his eyes suggested he wasn't surprised to find him there. The wolf hadn't moved, merely sat on his haunches, softly panting, perhaps from the exertion of climbing the steep hill.

After a few silent minutes, Sully's tensed muscles relaxed some, and he lowered the tomahawk down to his side, gripped firmly in his hand, but not in 'defense.' Somehow, he didn't feel the man was a threat.

Sully made the sign for greeting. The Indian nodded and gave the sign back, then added quietly, "Haho."

Sully had heard that word before and knew it meant many things, including 'hello.' "Haho," he returned with a slight nod.

After a beat, Sully began trying to explain who he was using sign, but the man smiled patiently and held up a hand, murmuring, "I speak your tongue."

Sully's eyes widened at this. The man's voice was deep and sure, and he had spoken the English words almost without accent.

"I am Cloud Dancing. My people are Cheyenne. Black Kettle is my chief," he offered. Sully nodded, watching carefully. "And you are...?" the Indian prompted with raised eyebrows and an easy smile.

"I'm Sully. I, uh, live in Colorado Springs," Sully answered, jerking a thumb toward the southwest.

"It is nice to make your acquaintance," the buckskin clad man answered with surprising formality.

"Yeah...likewise," Sully returned as they shared an easy smile of unexplainable camaraderie.

Relaxing, Sully swept a hand toward his camp in silent invitation. The Indian gave a nod of acceptance and moved forward gracefully, the wolf following. Sully noticed with a wry grin that they had something in common – they were both bowlegged – only the Indian was more so.

They settled across the campfire from each other and the wolf lay down between the two men, resting his head on his paws as if he would go to sleep.

"Nice wolf ya have there," Sully commented as he offered what remained of the meal he had managed to scrounge – some berries, a few apples he had picked from a tree on his way to his secret place, and a few ears of corn.

The Indian nodded his thanks and reached for an apple, then opened his own pack and produced what looked like some sort of flat bread, breaking off a piece and offering to share. Sully nodded and reached for it, taking a bite and finding it quite tasty. Sully took a drink out of the canteen he had brought from home. The Indian took a drink from a skin pouch on a strap slung over his shoulder.

"How long ya had 'im?" Sully asked by way of conversation.

The Indian gestured toward the animal, explaining, "I do not own him. He has stayed with me for two moons, since I found him in the woods. His foot was caught in a metal trap. I freed him, and cared for him until he healed," he added as he removed some jerky from his pack and offered some to Sully.

Sully nodded and reached to take a bit of the dried food as his eyes assessed the beautiful animal several feet away, now nearly asleep. He could see the scar on his left rear paw and mused that the creature was lucky this man happened along when he did.

The two continued eating in silence, listening to the occasional birdcall and the sound of the wind softly blowing the leaves of the trees just down the cliff.

Finally into the relative calm, the Indian murmured, "You are troubled, unsure of your way...and your heart yearns for a certain woman."

Sully's eyes startled wide and he paused in mid-chew to stare at his Indian companion.

"How'd you know that?"

Cloud Dancing smiled and raised one eyebrow as he unflinchingly met his white companion's eyes.

"The spirits told me I would cross paths with a white man with long hair and eyes like the sky...and that I am to show him the way."

Sully's brow furrowed as he pondered this.

"The _way_?"

The calm Indian continued to search Sully's eyes, and then he seemed to nod in silent decision, answering mysteriously, "You will learn."

OOOOOOOO

The days passed and turned into weeks. The first few days Sully and Cloud Dancing stayed together at the top of the cliff, Sully confiding in his new friend more than he ever had to any person before _– including Michaela_. Cloud Dancing listened patiently and sympathized quietly, sometimes with words, sometimes just supportive silence. Sully poured his heart out concerning his guilt over Abby, her death, the baby's death, and the promise. He told his new friend feelings he'd never admitted even to himself about being orphaned as a child and left alone – and nearly losing his life on the docks of New York many times, until he joined forces with another orphan.

He even confessed about his actions concerning Chief One Eye and the horrible mistake that had led to his decision to leave the army, including a detail he hadn't even confessed to Michaela...a detail so chilling he had vowed to keep it buried so deep it would never see the light of day. He was taking a chance that his new Indian friend would turn away from him, but he did not. Cloud Dancing could easily see his new white friend was devastated by his own actions.

Eventually the weather began to turn cooler, and Cloud Dancing invited Sully to accompany him to his village, to meet his wife Snowbird and their chief Black Kettle, and to get to know the ways of the Cheyenne people.

Not yet ready to return to Colorado Springs and his lonely, memory-inducing cabin, Sully agreed. Nervous at first, he soon found the people warm and friendly, and he quickly became comfortable in the company of his new friends. He enjoyed their easy, peaceful way of life, free from the jealous competition of the white world, from the rigidity of army life, from the backbiting and prejudice, and bitter unforgiving ways of so many of his own kind.

That night in the teepee of his new friends, Sully slept soundly, peacefully, for the first time in a very long while.

Before long, Sully began to take on the ways of his new 'family,' wearing buckskins and moccasins as he had during his forays as a scout, and beaded necklaces he made himself. He quickly learned more and more of their language and customs, stories and beliefs. Cloud Dancing told him of his background as Medicine Man for the tribe, and of the guidance he received from the 'spirits.' Wolf 'adopted' him, and after many weeks, the animal had taken to staying close to the white man's side, always hovering near as if he felt the need to protect him.

Sully knew he could be content for the rest of his life, living with people of such simple, uncomplicated ways – were it not for the fact that his heart yearned for a _certain lady_, just as his new brother had so aptly pointed out. Missing Michaela was the only negative to his newfound happiness. He thought about her many times each day and dreamed about her at night, and he was totally immune to the flirtatious looks cast his way by more than one young beautiful Indian maiden in the camp.

Cloud Dancing watched his new friend, whom he now regarded as a brother, as he sometimes stared off into the distance toward the direction of the town the whites called 'Colorado Springs.' He knew his brother was thinking about the woman at those times, but Sully had confided little about her to his new friend. Only that the man she had promised to marry had been killed, and that she had twice saved Sully's life. The fact that she was a doctor had made Cloud Dancing smile, because the Indians knew that among whites only men made medicine, so he wondered if she was a _crazy white woman_.

There must be something powerful about her, the Indian reasoned, for she had captured his brother's heart so completely, binding it tightly as if tied with a leather cord that had been moistened and left to shrink in the sun. It was as if Sully felt a tug on the cord now and then and had to resist the pressure. Cloud Dancing just wondered how long it would be before Sully would give in to the pull and return to town to see her. Until then, the medicine man vowed to do everything in his power to help his brother heal his soul, and grow strong again in body and mind.

Over the weeks, Sully went on hunting trips with the braves, dressed as they – bare-chested, buckskins, moccasins, and beads, the sun tanning his skin darker each day, and beginning to lighten his lengthening wavy locks. He participated in various contests of skill as well as several sweat lodge ceremonies, and worked diligently on learning more of the Cheyenne language. The braves grew to respect Sully's natural skills of throwing the tomahawk, the knife, and even shooting game with silent arrows. It was to them as if he had Cheyenne blood mixed in with the white, and many assumed he was a Ka'evé'ho'e – half-breed.

After many weeks, Cloud Dancing knew his friend was nearing the time when he would benefit from a vision quest, and he began talking to his brother about this next step in his healing.

"A vision quest?" Sully asked as the two lounged around the fire in the middle of Sully's own teepee. "What's that?"

"It is a journey...of the mind, soul, and spirit," his brother and mentor explained. "You go out alone; spend four days and four nights with no food or water. It will teach you things about yourself, show you your path, your heart."

Sully mulled this over, absently caressing the soft fur of his constant canine companion who was nestled against his thigh, half asleep.

"Before you seek your vision, you must prepare yourself," Cloud Dancing continued, reaching for a basket near the fire. "I can teach you to sit still and listen."

"Listen to what?" Sully asked offhandedly, tipping back his head as he took a drink from his canteen.

"Wind, trees...the animals. Learn to hear what they have to say in their own language."

"Animals talk to you?" Sully asked with a wry grin.

The wise Indian nodded, tossing a few dried berries in his mouth. "When a crow speaks, it is time to move on. A coyote may tell you someone is coming." He watched his younger brother's eyes, almost able to read his thoughts as Sully weighed the pros and cons of this proposed experience.

Sully grimaced slightly, imagining the hardships such an undertaking would entail. "I don't know about this..."

"I know that it sounds strange to you."

Sully nodded with a smirk, thinking that was an understatement.

"It is part of what you whites would call the rites of passage for all young men among my people. It will help you become a better man."

Sully nodded again, lapsing into thought.

They said no more about it that night, Cloud Dancing allowing Sully to decide on his own whether or not to take the quest. Once night fell and the camp settled down to sleep, the brothers bid each other goodnight as Cloud Dancing retired to his own teepee.

The next day, after mulling it over all night, tossing and turning and weighing the options, Sully sought his brother out as the camp began to rise for the day.

"What do I have to do?"

The Indian smiled knowingly and nodded, as he set about explaining in more detail this adventure he was proposing, such as praying for everyone he had ever known and his enemies as well, and that his heart would open.

Later that afternoon, Sully participated in another sweat lodge ceremony, this one held to assist him in preparing for his quest. He sat inside a heavily covered teepee with six braves and his mentor, each man naked and sweating profusely as Cloud Dancing slowly poured water over hot rocks in the middle of the tiny space, creating steam that produced a pungent scent. Then he began humming a chant as the others joined in softly. Much later, the Medicine Man ended the ceremony with a prayer for Sully's safety and success on the venture.

When all was ready, the seven men left the safety of the village and escorted Sully deep into the woods, over streams, up and down hills, and into a clearing where they set up a circle of smooth, round rocks surrounding a tanned bear skin. Sully's mentor explained that he would be safe as long as he was in the circle, and that Sully would know how long he needed to stay on the quest. After further instructions, and another admonishment to stay within the circle _no matter what_, the men finally left him standing in the center, a little afraid and unsure, but trusting his brother and best friend to not steer him wrong.

The men disappeared into the trees, but turned the opposite direction and made it back to the village in no time – which was much closer than Sully had been led to believe.

Cloud Dancing would spend the next hours and days keeping watch on his charge to make sure nothing harmed him, while Sully fought his own demons and conquered the enemies of his own self worth.

For both men, it would be a journey well worth the effort.


	21. Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21

Michaela smiled as she ushered the family out the clinic's door after vaccinating each one, grinning as she realized that her friend Dorothy's article in the Gazette about the benefits of vaccination had really helped people come around to the idea – and helped increase Michaela's patients.

Dorothy Jennings, Maude Bray's sister, having left her abusive husband, had arrived in town battered and bruised not long after Michaela settled in. She and Maude, though sisters, were still suffering from a major rift in their relationship stemming from years ago. As a result, she didn't feel comfortable asking Maude and Loren to put her up.

She and Michaela struck up an instant friendship, and Michaela helped her new friend start a fledgling newspaper, which Charlotte kindly allowed her to run from a room at the end of the main hall at the boarding house. As she had with Michaela, the kind, generous boarding house owner allowed her to rent it for nearly nothing until her livelihood improved.

Over the weeks since Michaela opened her clinic, she'd had some very interesting, and some quite serious, cases. There had been boils to lance, broken arms to set, catarrhs to treat, and other ailments that needed her medical expertise. One young boy had stuffed beans up his nose in response to a dare. She had even treated Horace for a terrible blister on his finger caused by excessive clicking of the telegraph key during a rather busy week.

Hank the barkeep actually put aside his dislike and distrust of her to come across the street and ask her to stitch up his arm after cutting it badly on a broken whiskey bottle. Jake had been on one of his benders and Hank knew he couldn't wait, and Michaela had enjoyed charging him a dollar per stitch, after inviting him to take his business elsewhere if he thought that too high. This helped her feel vindicated since he had allowed several of his patrons to harass her about a month after her arrival, when she had entered the saloon to check on Myra, who had called to her from a window. Luckily, the Reverend and Robert E. had been walking by the doors of the saloon and had heard the commotion, and lent a hand to extract her from the situation.

_Robert E._ He had quite changed his tune about her after his initial aversion to allowing a 'woman docta' to attend him. Of course, the fact that he had been severely burned when his forge exploded and would have died if Michaela had not taken him into her clinic and nursed him back to health, had a lot to do with his change of heart. He had become her unofficial protector after that, and his wife, Grace, had become a close friend. Grace was especially grateful to 'Dr. Mike' for saving the life of the man she loved.

In between patients, she had settled into a routine of helping Charlotte fix meals and even assist with the weekly cleaning of the boarding house – though her first attempt gave her friend quite a chuckle concerning the way Michaela attempted to sweep the floor. After admitting she had never cleaned a room in her life because her family always employed servants, her jovial landlord had kindly taken her by the hand and taught her some basic skills. Her cooking skills, however, still remained woefully inadequate.

She stood now at the window to the street, idly watching passersby hurrying to and fro in the brisk breeze. The first of October had brought with it a crisp wind that seemed to permeate the wood siding of the building, causing her to wrap her arms around her torso.

Just then, something out in the street caught her attention and she drew in a breath, her eyes quickly focusing on a man with long hair walking toward the mercantile. Her heart sank, however, when she realized it was that same man that fooled her every time, and she allowed her breath to release in a sigh of quiet disappointment. Once again it wasn't him. It wasn't _Sully_.

_Sully_..._where are you? When are you coming back?_ She fretted, the questions having become a litany in her mind.

Several weeks after he disappeared, Michaela had talked Charlotte's son, Matthew, into driving her out to Sully's homestead, hoping against hope that he would be there...but it was deserted. He had apparently made several repairs to the house, and cleaned up the two years of dust and cobwebs leaving it neat and tidy, but there were very few personal belongings to be seen.

She pressed her lips together as she thought of that. _Personal belongings. _They had decided to bury his uniform in the coffin and she had given his service revolver and gun belt to the corporal to take back to the fort. Sully had left everything in his quarters at Ft. Lowell, except for his tomahawk and knife, and a red and black poncho. His extra clothing, his chess set, his books and papers, even his woodcarvings, had probably been divided among his troop mates. Knowing how hard it was to start one's life over, and that he'd had to do it more than once, her heart went out to him.

Oh how she missed him! At least a thousand times since he had kissed her cheek and walked out the door, she had closed her eyes and fervently prayed he would come back, or send her a telegram, so that she could know if he was all right, and safe, and warm. She thought of him so many times during the day. So many things reminded her of him...the blue of the sky when it had that certain hue which matched his eyes...the unknown man with long hair who came to town now and then...a chess set for sale on one of Loren's shelves...a wolf statue in the glass case at the store that Maude told her Sully had carved...or one of the kids or Charlotte mentioning his name. Even her own shingle outside the door – every time she walked past it, she saw again the twinkle in his eyes and the amused smirk on his lips when she showed it to him, and heard his teasing, "Ain't much of a shingle."

But _Sully_...was _he_ thinking of _her_? Was he missing her? Was he planning on coming back at all? Did he feel for her even a fraction of the affection that she felt for him? Or was what he felt for her only a close friendship, but not enough to make it worth the misery of living his life among the memories of his decimated past? _The kisses...perhaps a man can desire to kiss a woman without feeling an emotional attachment..._

Somehow, she knew deep within her soul that he wasn't hurt or injured...that he was just staying away. She knew he had gone away to work things out about his feelings for Abby and what had happened. But Charlotte had mentioned in passing one day as the two of them were sitting together snapping green beans on the porch of the clinic, that she knew Sully had always been acutely aware of his lack of 'wealth and breeding.' She had even confided that Loren had found pleasure in making snide comments to him regarding that deficit many times over the years when Sully and Abby were married and money had been tight...

As Michaela gazed unseeing out the window, she closed her eyes and whispered to Sully's image in her mind, "Sully...please come home. Don't you know that true love would transcend riches, position, or influence? If this is a stumbling block for you...hear my heart, Sully. Please come back...talk to me...tell me what you feel. Are we...more than just friends?"

Shivering in the cold seeping through the window frame, she turned and crossed the room. Bending down, she placed a small log and more kindling in the pot-bellied stove in the corner, holding her hands close as she watched the flame begin to burn brighter.

Just then, the bell over the door tinkled and the Reverend came in, rubbing his neck with one hand as he cleared his throat. "Dr. Mike..." he rasped, swallowing painfully.

"Reverend Johnson, please come in. Oh my, is your throat sore?" she asked, immediately switching to physician mode as she crossed to him, quickly closing the door, and grasping his sleeve to encourage him toward the examining table. She checked him out, took his temperature and felt of his forehead, confirming he had a fever, and then looked down his throat.

"I'm afraid you have tonsillitis, Reverend," she murmured, smiling in sympathy as she crossed to her cabinet and removed a bottle of medicine. "I want you to take a spoonful of this twice a day until the symptoms subside. And come back for a follow up visit in a week," she added with a smile.

He smiled appreciatively, clearing his throat again as he stood down from the exam table.

"What do I owe ya?" he rasped.

"Oh...we'll settle that on your next visit. Now you get home and try to stay warm. Take care of yourself. I'll ask Grace to bring you some chicken soup later," she added sweetly.

He managed another smile, thinking how lovely Dr. Mike was when she looked up at him and smiled like that. _She really is a beautiful woman. I wonder if she would be interested in perhaps letting me court her..._ But right then, he was feeling too poorly to try to be charming, so he took the bottle from her hand, rasped a thank you, and opened the door to brave the chilly wind and make his way back to his lonely room at the back of the church.

She saw him out onto the porch, repeating her admonishments to take care of himself, and encountered a tall blond man she'd never seen before, his hand raised in the act of knocking on the outside door.

"Oh hello. May I help you?" she asked, thinking the man did not know the clinic door was inside the main door.

"Um, well...I'm lookin' for Charlotte Cooper..."

"Oh, I believe she went to run an errand, Mr..." she prompted, shivering at the strong breeze and lifting a hand to her face to brush back a wisp of her hair blown by the wind.

"Simon. Name's Daniel Simon," he responded, his eyes taking in the lovely woman standing before him. "Do you work for the doctor?" he asked, having seen the shingle next to the door and heard what she had said to the Reverend.

Michaela smiled, used to the familiar question. "No, I _am_ the doctor. Michaela Quinn, MD," she replied, holding out her hand for him to shake. He took it in his much larger one, his eyes twinkling, thinking that a lady with her looks and brains to match, she must be an amazing woman.

"How do, ma'am."

The wind gusted again and Michaela shivered a bit, offering, "Would you...like to come in out of this wind, and wait for Charlotte in my clinic?"

"Thanks, I think I will," he chuckled as he reached up to keep his hat from blowing off.

The two quickly entered the large room. Michaela shut the interior door, and together they moved over near the stove to warm their hands.

Michaela glanced at her tall companion thinking he was rather handsome, though her taste had never leaned toward fair-haired men. He wore cotton trousers, a button up shirt, a nice wool jacket with burgundy velvet lapels, a black string tie, and off topped with a brown cowboy style hat. Taking the hat off and tossing it on a chair near the stove, he unconsciously ran his hands through his hat-flattened hair, leaving it attractively mussed.

As she turned her eyes away, he glanced at her, taking in the light blue high-buttoned blouse behind a large white apron, dark blue full skirt, and long coppery hair done up in a twisted braid and hanging in front on one side. Her cheeks were pink from the sharp wind. Musing that he'd never seen a more beautiful woman, and seeing no rings on her hands, he wondered how the male population of Colorado Springs had overlooked this gem.

She glanced at him again and intercepted his eyes. They both smiled and let out a tiny chuckle.

She cleared her throat. "So...you're looking to rent a room?"

"Huh?" He responded, then giving a quick shake of his head, quickly added, "Oh, no. I, uh, I'm actually lookin' for a friend of mine and I thought Charlotte might know where he is – Byron Sully."

Michaela's eyes immediately grew large as she realized why his name had sounded familiar. "Good heavens! You're Sully's friend!"

He grinned. "You know Sully? Where is he? And his wife, Abby?"

At that, Michaela's smile faded and she replied softly, "I'm sorry...Abigail passed away over two years ago. You knew her?"

"Passed away? Oh my G-," he gasped, kicking himself for going so far away, so deep in the gold mines of Nevada that he'd been impossible to contact. _Poor Sully...I know how much he wanted a home and family... _ He swallowed awkwardly, rifling one hand back through his hair as the shock of the unexpected news nearly made him stagger. "I just came from the homestead and it don't look like anybody's been there in awhile...do you know where Sully is?"

Again her face reflected her emotions as she thought about him being gone, missing. She shook her head. "No...I haven't seen him in over two months." She watched as the man stared straight ahead as if almost in shock, trying to assimilate the information.

"Would you like to sit down?" she asked softly and he nodded, lowering himself into a chair. She pulled up another and sat near.

Not knowing how much he knew and feeling it wasn't her place to confide in him the details of Sully's stint in the army, she offered, "Sully...went away after Abigail died. He...wound up in Arizona for a while and, that's where I met him. He accompanied me here after I answered the town's advertisement for a doctor," she explained gently. "However, about a week after we arrived...Sully left. He said he was going hunting, and to spend some time alone. I haven't seen him since."

Daniel nodded at this, glancing at her again. "You and he..."

"We're just good friends," she immediately explained, feeling that a safe answer, though she wished she could say otherwise. She missed the tiny moment of relief on his face as she shifted in her seat, before fixing her eyes on him again and waiting for him to explain his side of things if he so desired.

After a moment, he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I guess Sully told ya a little about me and him. We...we grew up together on the docks in New York, came out west together thinkin' ta strike it rich. When we got here, he struck up a romance with...Abby...and hired on at one of the silver mines." She nodded for him to go on. "I hired on too, but it wasn't for me. I kinda knocked around a little, joined up on a few cattle drives as a cowboy, and did some other stuff. Then, around the time Sully got the homestead done and they moved in it, I decided to go out to Nevada and try my hand looking for gold there."

She nodded again and smiled. "How'd you do?"

He grinned and his eyes twinkled. "Got lucky. Found some."

"That's wonderful, Mr. Simon!" she exclaimed in genuine congratulations.

"Thanks," he murmured, his eyes continuing to twinkle as he gazed at her, her sweetness and beauty beginning to sweep him off his feet.

"You never...got married, or..." she began, blushing a little as she realized what a personal question that was to ask a man she barely knew.

He grinned. "Just ain't ever found the right girl, I guess. But now that I sold the mine, I got plenty 'a time to look."

Michaela looked at him incredulously. "You _sold_ it?"

He chuckled self-deprecatingly. "All those years I was wanderin' around, explorin', hopin' to strike gold...the strange thing is, soon as I did, felt like the best part was over. I mean, it was exciting to find gold 'n all, but..." he stopped, shrugging. "Guess what I really liked was all that wanderin' 'n explorin'."

Michaela gazed at him, wondering if Sully felt anything close to that - if he didn't necessarily wish to settle down. But...he had settled down with _Abby..._

"So I thought I'd pull up stakes and come back here, check in with my best friend that I haven't seen in way too long, and decide my next move."

"So...you'll be staying indefinitely, Mr. Simon...?"

"_Daniel_, please. And yeah...that's about the size of it," he answered, flashing her his most charming smile.

She nodded and returned a smile, folding her hands primly in her lap.

They lapsed into silence then, each deep in thought – hers concentrating on trying to figure out Sully's feelings, and his on his good fortune of finding such a rare jewel that seemed to be unattached and available.

When finally they both heard footsteps on the porch and the end door open and shut, Michaela smiled warmly as she rose from her chair.

"That must be Charlotte. Why don't we tell her you're here?"


	22. Chapter 22

CHAPTER 22

Michaela had settled into a comfortable routine of helping Charlotte around the boarding house, tending to patients if she had any, and spending time with Sully's friend who had settled quite resolutely into a room at the boarding house – the room directly across the hall from Michaela's. Although she was somehow oblivious, everyone else could easily see that he had become smitten with her. She merely thought of him as a connection to the man she missed so terribly, and thoroughly enjoyed the many 'Sully' stories Daniel obligingly offered.

Michaela found Daniel easy to talk to, handsome, articulate in many ways and knowledgeable about a varied number of subjects - and a terrific chess player. Having brought a set with him, they quickly settled into nightly games. Though Michaela enjoyed their matches, she couldn't help but think about the games she and Sully had played at the fort and on their journey – and it made her miss him all the more. During more than one match against Daniel, she found her mind transported back to that rainy Saturday with Sully, when she had wished the game could have gone on forever...until the arrival of the newspaper had shattered their idyllic afternoon.

Over the weeks since her arrival, she and Loren had settled into somewhat of a truce, mainly because he wasn't one to turn down a paying customer, but also because he grudgingly admitted to himself that the 'woman doctor' had helped his wife. Maude was no longer having her 'spells' since Michaela had been able to persuade her to take a pinch of Digitalis powder when she felt the need.

Michaela felt happy and needed in her new life - versus the useless, wasted feeling she had suffered in Boston after her father died. Slowly, the townspeople had begun to come around, although Jake Slicker still refused to even acknowledge her and insisted upon stepping forward to 'doctor' an accident victim if he got there first. Many wives of the outlying farms would have come to her, but their husbands still stubbornly refused to allow it.

She and Charlotte had worked together several weeks after her arrival to deliver Emily Donovan's baby. The young seamstress was in obvious distress and the solution was outside of Charlotte's sphere of knowledge. By Michaela performing a cesarean section, much to Charlotte's trepidation, mother and baby both came through with flying colors. Emily's husband, however, remained stubbornly against the idea of a woman doctor.

Dorothy had been a welcome addition to Michaela's growing group of friends. Between her and Charlotte, Michaela found a camaraderie she had never experienced with other women back in Boston, except, of course, with her sister Rebecca. But that was different...Rebecca would always be her 'older, wiser' sister, and as such, Michaela naturally held back certain thoughts or details. With these two friends in Colorado Springs, Michaela was finding a true sense of belonging. The three ladies soon formed a tight bond.

During a particularly busy day at the mercantile a week after Daniel's arrival, the sound of a fast moving wagon made most of the customers drift near the door and front windows to observe the commotion.

Olive Davis, Loren's sister and owner of a small ranch several miles out of town, was just bringing her hands back from their latest cattle drive.

"Jake Slicker!" Olive yelled as her foreman pulled the wagon up in front of the mercantile.

"What's wrong, Olive?" Loren asked as he emerged from the store, feather duster in hand.

"One of my men's sick. I'd sent him inta town for supplies near Amarilla', and he came down with a fever on the trail. Where's Jake?" She asked, of course having no clue there was a real doctor in the town now.

"Well..." Loren began, although loath to 'recommend' Michaela. Charlotte and Michaela happened to be shopping together and now they pushed their way through the gathering crowd.

"Olive, welcome back," the midwife greeted the woman who was practically her best friend.

"Charlotte, how's everythin'?" Olive returned, climbing down from her horse and moving to give her friend a hug.

"Everythin's fine. Here, I wancha ta meet Michaela Quinn," she added, turning so Michaela could step forward. "_Dr_. Michaela Quinn. She runs a clinic in town now, in what used to be that storage room at my boardin' house."

Olive stuck her hand out to shake with Michaela, her eyes sizing up this petite, lovely, and refined looking woman.

"A doc, huh?"

"That's right," Michaela replied with a careful smile as she shook hands with the woman, who was dusty and quite grungy from long days on the trail. She was dressed like a man, and was what most people would call a 'handsome' woman. "Did you say one of your men has a fever?"

"Well..." Olive began, unconsciously mimicking her brother. She glanced at Charlotte, who was giving her the look that said, 'you can trust her', but before she could make up her mind, Michaela had gently pushed past her and to the back of the wagon. Inside, under a tarp to protect him from the chill air, she found a man who was definitely very sick with fever.

"Bring him to my clinic," she ordered, having slipped effortlessly into physician mode. Daniel, who had come to the store earlier for several items, stepped forward and reached to pick the man up, sharing the burden with another man who offered his help. They immediately set off toward the boarding house with the stricken man. Olive raised her eyebrows in surprise and glanced around, meeting eyes with her brother, who merely offered a sneering shrug.

After a cursory examination, Michaela emerged to the porch, informing Olive and others who had gathered that the man had influenza and that she would keep him there to monitor his condition.

"Let's just hope that no one else comes down with this...or it could easily turn into an epidemic," she predicted quietly.

"Well...I've been exposed to it before. Most of my hands have. This guy we picked up as an extra hand down in San Angelo," Olive informed thoughtfully.

"I've been exposed, back in my days in the minin' camps," Daniel murmured, silently offering his help if more were discovered with the illness.

Michaela nodded, exchanging glances with Daniel before retreating back inside and closing the door to get back to her patient. She set up a folding screen to keep him separate from any other patients who happened to need her services.

OOOOOOO

The next twenty-four hours found Michaela attending several feverish patients, although some stubbornly went to Jake first, to be 'bled' of the illness. After Emily's baby was found to be burning up with fever, and her husband found dead from very possibly both the illness and Jake's 'bleeding' technique, Michaela worriedly went to Charlotte.

"Just as I feared, this has all the makings of a full-blown epidemic," she fussed, her hands wrapped around her shawl-covered arms. Daniel stood by her side, ready to help with anything she needed.

Charlotte put down her rolling pin and thoughtfully began to wipe her hands on a towel.

"What should we do, Dr. Mike?"

"I need...a hospital. I have four patients in the clinic already, in varying stages of the illness. I need to separate them," she explained, meeting her friend's eyes.

"Well...Daniel's the only payin' guest I have right now, so you can use the empty rooms."

Michaela smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Charlotte," she murmured, stepping over to give her friend a quick hug before turning to make her way to the porch, Daniel following closely.

A small crowd milled nearby, everyone talking worriedly about this latest threat.

"May I have your attention?" Michaela called, motioning everyone near. "We are facing an epidemic of massive proportions unless we work together and isolate the sick. Please, pass the word to everyone you see – anyone who comes down with the fever, come here to the boarding house as quickly as possible. If you don't – the whole town could be wiped out."

The townspeople reacted, comments buzzing back and forth as Michaela turned to meet Daniel's eyes. Somehow they both knew they were in for the fight of their lives.

OOOOOOO

A week had slowly, painfully, crept by.

Michaela closed her eyes, swaying slightly and trying to remember whom the glasses of water with a pinch of quinine were for. She had been 'on duty' nearly every minute throughout the week, only snatching tiny naps here and there when she could – and barely eating anything. This was something she had always done – just block everything else out and become like a machine, doing what needed to be done and pushing herself way beyond human endurance.

It seemed half of the town had come down with the dreaded 'Grippe' as the locals called it. A tiny, tired smile flitted across Michaela's face as she thought of that – how appropriate, because 'grip' you it certainly did, and did not want to let go.

Dorothy had been stricken with the illness, but had stubbornly kept at her printing press trying to keep up with informing the town of the progression of the infirmity until she finally collapsed and had to be carried to her bed. Horace had been brought in, after manning the telegraph as long as he could possibly concentrate. Jake stumbled in later that same day, terribly weak from an attempt at self-bleeding. Parents brought in children. Husbands brought in wives. Grown children brought in elderly parents.

By the end of the week, many had already died of the illness, despite Michaela's best efforts. Her supply of the life-saving quinine quickly began to dwindle with so many in need, especially those who came to her after allowing Jake to 'bleed' them, which only undermined their already weakened systems. Robert E. worked long hours trying to keep up with the demand for coffins.

Worst of all was Charlotte's sweet youngest child, Brian, coming down with the fever. This was especially hard, as the little boy had become quite special to Michaela in the short time she had known him.

"Bring him in here, Daniel," Michaela had instructed worriedly as Charlotte flung back the covers on Brian's bed. The sight of his flushed face and agonized expression pierced both their hearts.

"I thought puttin' the kids out at Olive's ranch'd keep 'em safe," Charlotte murmured fretfully.

"I did, too, Charlotte," Michaela mumbled, her tired mind already planning a fierce regimen of treatment for the boy.

As Colleen tried to push through the throng of people in the hallway – the Reverend, Matthew, and several strangers that were kinfolk of other patients - Michaela met Daniel's eyes as she and Charlotte tucked Brian under the covers.

"Daniel, would you please keep everyone away," she requested, motioning with her head toward the boy's sister.

"Sure thing, Dr. Mike," he automatically answered, turning to bustle the onlookers and family out.

"I'm stayin!" the girl yelled, yanking her arm away.

"Colleen..." Charlotte began.

"I think..." Michaela interrupted as she met Charlotte's eyes again. "I think it might be best if Matthew and Colleen return to the ranch..."

Matthew heard and stepped in the room to argue, but Colleen placed her hands on her hips, determinedly facing down both her mother and Dr. Mike.

"No. I don't wanna go back there all alone. What if we both got it? There'd be nobody to take care of us. You're both too busy takin' care of everybody else. We could die out there and nobody'd even know!"

"Colleen Marie..." her mother began to admonish, shocked at her daughter's outburst, but Michaela again interrupted, "Colleen, there's a full blown epidemic going on here. The less you're exposed the better..."

"No! We're stayin!" Colleen insisted, defying both her mother and their friend. "And I'm gonna help take care of Brian, like _family_ should."

Both ladies were a bit shaken by Colleen's insinuation – that Michaela as a doctor and Charlotte as a midwife, they sometimes put the needs of others above those of their own families. It was a sobering accusation, even more so because they both knew it was true.

With a nod, and a sigh, they relented.

OOOOOOOO

Daniel had been Michaela's strength through the long days and nights, carrying, fetching, sponging, and doing generally anything needed to help in the crisis, while keeping a close watch on the self-sacrificing doctor. Countless times he had encouraged her to rest or eat, but knowing the bulk of the responsibility rested on her shoulders, she kept on going. The result, however, was that in her state of exhaustion she herself had come down with the fever. But she refused to give up or give in – and she made the decision to forego taking any of what little quinine she had left, choosing to parcel it out bit by bit and try to eek out as many survivors as she possibly could.

Now, Myra, the saloon girl Michaela had befriended the first few weeks she was there, came in offering her help.

"Myra...are you alright?" Michaela asked, concerned.

"Oh I'm fine. Hank closed the saloon – too afraid of the grippe," she chuckled self-consciously, thinking she needed to explain why she was 'off duty.'

"What about you? Why aren't you afraid?"

"I had it once, and I lived to tell...so...I thought, well, maybe you could use an extra hand."

Olive walked in and overheard the last sentence, frowning disapprovingly. "We got all the hands we need."

Michaela flashed a look at the other woman, and then managed a smile at Myra. "Of course I can use your help."

"She's a _whore_," Olive insisted, albeit quietly.

Michaela placed herself between Myra and the older woman. "She's my _friend_," she declared, staring the other woman down until another visitor – Emily, interrupted them.

They both reacted and Olive ended up taking Emily by the hand and leading her away to attend to a chore. Michaela turned back to Myra.

"So...what can I do?" the younger woman asked.

Michaela glanced around. "Well...Horace needs bathing." She handed Myra a basin and sponge, and the young saloon girl asked in a low voice, "You want me to wash...you know...everything?"

Michaela blushed as her meaning dawned, sputtering, "Uh...no...no...just, his chest and back will be sufficient." She turned to drag herself back upstairs, leaving Myra to her work – tending to a bashful Horace.

After checking on Brian and making the rounds of her 'hospital', she went back downstairs to continue dispensing her tiny remaining store of quinine. When Grace came in with food for the workers, Michaela blearily motioned where to put it.

Colleen came in the room with an armload of clean towels. Watching the lady doctor and suspecting she was sick with the illness herself, the girl marveled at her strength and determination. Thinking back to the harsh words she had flung at the doctor earlier in the week, Colleen approached the woman.

"Dr. Mike?"

Michaela turned, trying to focus on the girl.

"All this week, I watched you...the way you care for people." She paused a moment, choosing her words. "I want to be a doctor when I grow up...like you." They shared a look of respect and a bond that would from that moment never be broken, and then with a shy smile the girl turned to return back to her little brother's room.

Michaela stood for a moment, touched beyond words, her eyes beginning to fill with tears of both emotion and exhaustion. Her brain felt so hazy, she could barely think.

Daniel stuck his head in the door just then as he brought in an armload of firewood. "Dr. Mike? You need anything?"

Before she could answer, they both heard Colleen's voice from upstairs. "Dr. Mike!"

Terrified of the worst and fueled by an instant burst of adrenaline, Michaela forced herself to run from the room and up the stairs, Daniel right behind her – only to come to Brian's room and see him sitting up in the bed, playing.

Grateful he had pulled through; she moved to the bed and began to lean down to hug him. It was the last action she would take before fever and exhaustion took their toll...and she collapsed – right into Daniel's arms.

"Michaela!" he gasped, alarmed.

"I knew this was comin'," Charlotte fussed, reaching out to lay a hand on Michaela's forehead, which was burning up with fever. "Let's get her to bed," she added, leading the way down the hall to Michaela's room as Colleen and Olive looked on in worry.

Daniel carried her carefully, noting how light she felt in his arms and marveling that such a frail-looking woman could have mustered such strength for so long.

He waited for Charlotte to turn back the covers, and then laid Michaela gently on the bed.

Olive and Charlotte immediately set about caring for Michaela as Daniel stepped back, watching. _I should have known she was comin' down with it! I should have tried harder to get her to take care of herself!_ He silently fumed.

Now, this special woman he had only known less than four weeks was seriously ill and obviously exhausted. He couldn't help but admire her strength and determination, and he didn't even want to contemplate the possibility that Dr. Mike would be added to the list of casualties. But he felt totally helpless to do anything to stop the process.

The two ladies glanced at each other; both thinking it would take a miracle for Dr. Mike to pull through. But at that moment, neither had any idea from whence that miracle would come.


	23. Chapter 23

_AN: I know all of you are chomping at the bit for Sully to return, so I'm giving you a present. I'll put up chapter 24 on Friday, that's when Sully returns. __ But in payment, let me know what you think, ok? And thank you to the anonymous reviewers and to everyone who has kindly left me word of how you are enjoying the story. As we authors always say – the reviews keep us writing! __ And – thank you Audrey for your help on this one. It put up a good fight, but we won, hehe. _

CHAPTER 23

A few days had passed since Sully's vision quest.

It had been a thoroughly enlightening experience. Sully had learned a great deal about himself, and settled many things in his mind, as his new brother had predicted. He had seen things from his childhood, hurts and disappointments from a different perspective, and more fully understood how they had influenced his decisions and shaped him into the man he'd become. Also, as best he could, he had tried to make peace with the secret, devastating details of the tragedy that had resulted in him deserting from the army.

The first day, a mourning dove alighted on a rock within inches of his hand and just stared at him, repeatedly singing its soft coo. Fascinated to see the creature so close, Sully found himself trying to mimic its call, practicing over and over until he mastered it. When he did, the bird almost looked as if it smiled - if a beak could smile - then turned and flew away as if it had accomplished its mission.

The second night as he was shivering in the chill air, Abby and Hanna came to him. His baby was now a beautiful little girl of nearly three, with her mother's black hair and his blue eyes. Abby sweetly apologized for forcing him to make such a promise, telling him that they both released him from it, then she gently informed him that he had many years to live on this earth, and many things yet to do. Hanna's sweet little-girl voice was amazingly articulate as she told him she would see him someday, and that she would always love him. The experience left him with a mixture of both sadness and joy.

The third day, desperately hungry and thirsty, Sully alternated between lying hazily on the bearskin, to forcing himself to sit up and take note of his surroundings, his brain and body operating in slow motion.

Images came to him, some confusing, but most were images of Michaela. At first, she was smiling, laughing, reaching for him, beckoning to him, and he wanted so badly to rise and go with her. She was wearing a white blouse and skirt he'd never seen her wear, her hair flowing free, fluffing beautifully in the breeze. At one point, he imagined he grasped her hand and pulled her down on the fur blanket with him. She smiled dreamily and allowed him to roll her into his embrace. He raised his hand to her face and they kissed repeatedly, deeper and longer until they ended up kissing as passionately as they had by the creek in Arizona, rifling their hands through each other's hair. The sensations seemed so real...he breathed in her scent, could taste her mouth, and feel her soft warm body through the white cotton blouse.

Then she was gone, and he was left there alone on the blanket, bereft of the glow and warmth of her presence, his body suffering from the aching need she had aroused.

"_Michaela_," he whispered to the wind, the sound bringing him from his musings back to his surroundings, and he reached to pull the fur around his body to try and ward off the chill that had begun to permeate the air.

That night as he lay half awake and half asleep, fighting off the chilliness of the night, the aching hunger, and the maddening thirst - Michaela came to him again. He saw her as clear as if she were really there, though he held firmly to the reality that she was just a figment of his imagination. She knelt on the ground next to his head and stared down at him, the moonlight making her features seem as ethereal as those of an angel. She reached out and touched his face and he felt the physical warmth of her fingers.

"Sully..." she whispered. "Please come home. Don't you know that true love would transcend riches, position, or influence? If this is a stumbling block for you...hear my heart, Sully. Please come back...talk to me..." He closed his eyes and savored her touch and her words, which answered the questions and quelled the remaining doubts he had harbored. Yet, when he opened his eyes again to tell her his thoughts and feelings, she was gone.

He woke the next morning as the sun rose over the horizon and knew his quest was complete. He felt at peace, totally at peace for the first time in his life, and ready to make plans for his future... hopefully for _their _future. Now, he was sure, nothing could possibly stand in the way.

Cloud Dancing, who had ventured to the crest of a nearby hill to check on his novice friend many times during the quest, woke at nearly the same time Sully did. Sitting up in his teepee, Snowbird asleep on the furs next to him, he smiled and nodded, feeling as if the spirits were telling him to go and bring Sully back, that his quest had been fulfilled.

This time when he topped the hill and looked down, he saw his brother standing tall and sure, his hands stretched to the sky as if he were giving thanks. Then he bent down and slipped into his moccasins in preparation to leave. Smiling with satisfaction, Cloud Dancing began to make his way down the hill.

Sully sensed his presence before he saw him, and turned his head. He grinned as he realized the direction from which his friend was coming.

When the Indian reached him, he greeted, "Haho my brother," reaching out his arm to clasp with Sully.

"Haho. Let me guess...the village is just over that rise...right?"

Cloud Dancing chuckled. "I told you that you were safe, but if you had known you were that close to the village, perhaps you might have given up the quest in favor of a warm pile of furs and a welcoming campfire..."

Sully laughed with him. "You might be right about that. There was a few times I wanted to wring your neck for leavin' me out here."

Cloud Dancing bent to help him scatter the rocks and pick up the bearskin. The Indian glanced at his friend, noting the relaxed expression. The haunting guilt was obviously gone, hopefully once and for all.

"Your quest...it was good?"

Sully grinned at him and met his eyes, allowing his brother to see the certainty of his feelings. "Yeah. Real good. I know my future now...and it's with Michaela."

Cloud Dancing nodded with a grin. "This is good. But first you must come, share what you can of your visions, eat with us – Snowbird has prepared a feast for you," he added with a twinkle. "She expects you to be ravenous."

"And she's right!" Sully agreed as they turned to make their way up the long slope of the hill, their arms looped around each other's shoulders.

OOOOOOO

Michaela moaned softly, tossing and turning, her hands moving and reaching as she reacted to the images in her mind – a strange combination of memories and fears. She moaned again, mumbling, few of the words intelligible.

She was searching, running, trying to see through a haze of tears. Searching for Sully. Through the fevered jumble of her thoughts, she had somehow acquired the certainty that he needed her and she just couldn't give up. Opening doors in the upper hall of the boarding house, she searched for him in vain, becoming more frantic by the minute. _Where are you Sully? I MUST find you..._

Then the boarding house became the hotel in Bowie, and she went from room to room there as her frantic search continued. People tried to comfort her, grasping her hands, trying to still her movements, but she shook them off, striving to get across to them that she had to keep searching – she had to _find_ him! _Why did you have to go away? I thought we meant something to each other...you're my best friend...you are...my heart...don't you know - I need you?_

Once again, voices interrupted her visions. A cool, wet sensation touched her forehead and chest. The voices attempted to soothe her agitated subconscious, but she strained to get away, trying to get them to allow her to keep searching.

Then the images in her mind changed to a dark, windy night...a campfire...a man lying nearby. She felt herself shaking, her heart pounding as she approached. Reaching out a trembling hand, it suddenly, magically held a lantern. As she neared the body, she recognized his hair. Her heart sped up even more. She'd found him! Leaning down, bringing the lantern near – she stopped still as her eyes beheld his face. Blood was everywhere, coming from a gaping wound in his neck. His face was pasty white...and his eyes were open, staring straight ahead. Those precious blue eyes...

"Noooooo! SULLY!" she screamed aloud, startling everyone in the room.

Charlotte paused in her sponging as she and Olive glanced at each other, sitting on either side, each trying to calm Michaela.

Daniel paused in the act of pouring fresh water into the basin next to the bed, his heart lurching in shock at the outburst, and then sinking as the woman he loved called out in desperation for his best friend...

OOOOOOO

"And then this dove flew right up and landed, _this_ close," Sully related to his friends as he ate of the delicious meal Snowbird had prepared, relaxing inside their warm, comfortable teepee and out of the chilly wind.

"I couldn't believe it. And it just sat there, starin' at me, cooin'. So...I started tryin' to coo back...I guess talkin' to it. When I finally got the call right, it flew away," he grinned with a shrug and stuffed a large piece of Snowbird's delicious flatbread into his mouth.

Cloud Dancing smiled knowingly and nodded. "The dove was telling you what your song should be."

Sully cast his friend a puzzled look as he swallowed the bread, mumbling, "My song?"

The Indian nodded again. "Each person in the tribe must pick a different bird song, to be used when an enemy is near and they wish to communicate to another that they are nearby. Having your own bird song can mean the difference between life and death – for you or for a loved one. Make the song, let us hear," he encouraged with a grin.

Sully swallowed the last bite of a large helping of baked fish and took a drink of water to wash it down, then puckered his lips and performed a perfect imitation of a 'mourning dove.'

"Excellent. Your friend taught you well," Cloud Dancing teased.

Sully chuckled and dipped his head. "Haho," but his smile dimmed a little as he began to hear Michaela's voice in his mind. She was telling him she missed him, needed him, and wanted him to come home. She sounded almost frantic, as if she were searching for him. He paused and wondered at this.

Cloud Dancing demonstrated his twilling bird call. Not to be outdone, Snowbird gave a good imitation of a tree swallow, which had been her song since she was a girl.

Sully smiled and nodded. Reaching forward for another piece of flatbread, he became aware that something in his subconscious had been nudging him for hours and he had been ignoring it. Now, he allowed it to come fully forward and what he felt nearly crushed him in its intensity. _Something was wrong with Michaela._ Not only was she upset, Sully could actually _feel_ in his own body an oppressing malaise that told him, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was physically ill.

As he tried to make sense of this, he suddenly froze, his eyes widening in shock as he distinctly heard her voice scream his name. A scream so agonized it was as if she had come upon his dead body. The realization made his nerves quiver in reaction.

Cloud Dancing glanced at his friend and saw the expression on his face. "What is it Sully?"

Sully met the wise dark eyes of his brother, swallowing dryly. "Michaela...she's sick...and she just screamed for me...I heard her. Cloud Dancin'...I gotta get to her," he added even as he was rising to his feet.

Something in the seriousness of his voice urged the Indian to totally believe him and he rose to his feet as well.

"Come. I will accompany you. We will take horses."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: Thank you so much for the great response to chapter 23! It really lets me know that my hard work is appreciated. As promised, Sully returns...

CHAPTER 24

Daniel stood at the doorway, watching as a delirious Michaela lay on her stomach on the bed, the women sponging her lovely bare back. He couldn't take his eyes from her form, longing so much to hold her in his arms and have her respond to him. The instant those thoughts registered, he felt ashamed. Here she was, sick and unconscious and he was thinking sensual thoughts about her. _I got no right ta be lookin' at her like this..._ He reprimanded himself silently.

Olive rose to go retrieve fresh water, closing the door behind her. Daniel met her sad eyes.

"The quinine's gone. We have nothin' to give her. She's burnin' up...and we just don't know how to help her," she told him sadly. Pausing, she shook her head. "I hate feelin' so helpless. I've always been the kind who takes the bull by the horns and gets things done. Why, when my husband passed away, I got up the very next day and started runnin' the ranch. But this...this has me stumped."

He nodded, feeling the same way. "Maybe I could ride to Manitou, see if they have some medicine..."

"Ain't no doctor in Manitou – and anyways, they'd run you off, knowin' you came from here and we got us an epidemic."

"Well...we can't just stand by and let her die!" he burst out, running his hands back through his hair in frustration. "There's gotta be something we can do!"

She nodded, fatigued and frustrated. With a sigh, she touched his chest as she turned to go. "Might try prayin'."

He watched her move on down the hall, and then after a few minutes of silence, he bowed his head, whispering a halting prayer.

"God in Heaven...I ain't prayed to ya in a long time, but...please don't let her die, God."

Turning his head, he stared at the closed door for a moment, picturing the woman who lay so ill on the bed inside the room. Desperate, he added, "Even if she loves Sully...even if he comes back and she goes with him...just don't let her die God. Please don't let her die."

OOOOOOO

Sully and his Indian friend rode down the empty street of the town, Wolf trotting beside Sully's horse. Cloud Dancing had never been to Colorado Springs, knowing the people there wouldn't welcome his kind. But the spirits were telling him he should do this, go with Sully, that he would be needed. Neither man knew the origin of this sense of urgency, but they both felt it in their gut and it drove them onward.

"Where _is_ everybody?" Sully muttered as he neared the porch of the boarding house. No one walked the streets. The saloon was closed. So was the mercantile - and it was the middle of the day. Loren NEVER closed the store in the middle of the day. _Somethin' ain't right._

As he pulled his horse to a stop and looked around, it was then he noticed coffins stacked up to the right of the center door, under the clinic's window...

A chill ran through him that had nothing to do with the temperature.

He slid off the horse, glad to be on the ground again as he still wasn't quite used to riding bareback. He had just put a foot on the porch when the center door opened.

The Reverend backed out as he and Matthew carried a body covered in a white sheet. They stopped when they saw the two horses and riders, accompanied by what looked like a wolf.

"Sully?" the clergyman murmured, staring at the man to make sure, since he was dressed as an Indian and sported a scraggly beard and quite long hair. A red and black poncho covered buckskin pants and reached to his knees.

"Sully, where you been? Why'd you come back and then just leave again?" Matthew groused, in truth a little put out at the man, and more than a little fed up having to listen to Brian babble on about Sully and what a 'hero' his brother thought he was.

"Where's Dr. Mike?" Sully asked with no prelude, choosing, out of necessity, to ignore Matthew's questions for now.

"She's upstairs," Matthew answered. "She's been hollerin' for ya. Where you _been_ all this time?" the young man pressed.

Sully didn't answer, just turned his head and communicated silently with his Indian friend and the wolf to wait, then lunged inside the door and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

When he reached the top, he stopped in his tracks.

There outside of Michaela's bedroom door stood a man he hadn't seen in years, leaning against the wall with his eyes shut.

"Daniel?" Sully murmured questioningly.

Daniel's eyes popped open at the familiar voice and he stared at his long time friend, wondering if he was imagining things. He had just asked God to bring Sully back home thinking maybe Michaela would feel his presence since she seemed to be pining for him.

"Sully?" Daniel asked, staring at the man. He'd let his hair grow till it was way past his shoulders, and he was bearded and dressed like an Indian. The only feature that looked like Sully were his eyes. They were still the wildflower blue that had made all the girls swoon when he and Sully were young.

"Michaela in there?" Sully guessed, half afraid of the answer since everything seemed so quiet and Daniel looked like he'd been praying.

"Yeah...but she's real sick with the grippe. There's been an epidemic...all the medicine was used up," Daniel explained, watching the emotions in Sully's eyes, especially when the word 'grippe' was mentioned. Daniel knew his friend was probably thinking of an epidemic they both had lived through at a mining camp. It hadn't been pretty.

Sully swallowed dryly, moved forward, grasped the knob, took a deep breath to try and steady his nerves and prepare for whatever awaited him on the other side...and opened the door.

Charlotte had refastened Michaela's chemise and returned her to her back, and was now sponging the doctor's face and neck. Sully watched, frozen, as the woman he loved lay on the bed, eyes closed, hair damp and lying limp against the white pillowcase. Her face was flushed with the fever, lips dry and moving, but no sound emerged.

Charlotte turned her head at the sound of the door opening and her eyes widened. "Sully?" she breathed.

He gave a nod and moved toward the bed, his eyes not leaving Michaela's face.

"How'd you know to come back?" she asked astutely, having the distinct feeling that this wasn't just a coincidence.

Still without meeting her eyes, he whispered, "She called for me."

Then he knelt down and took one of her hands in both of his, bringing it to his lips. Her skin felt burning hot and it scared him down to his soul. He'd never felt a person with such a high fever. _How long she been like this? She's burnin' up!_

"Michaela?" he whispered. "I'm here...its Sully..."

"She can't hear ya. She's been out of it for two days," Charlotte cautioned, running the sponge over Michaela's forehead and down to her neck and chest again. It didn't take long for the water to evaporate off her scorching hot skin.

Just then there was a commotion at the door. Brian, Colleen, and Olive came in the room, each with a different reaction to his being there.

"Sully!" "You're back!" "What the...why are you _dressed_ that way?"

Sully turned and met Olive's eyes, wondering what she was doing there, because he seemed to recall she was usually coming back from taking her cattle to market around this time of year. He immediately blanched at the look in her eyes and wondered what his deceased wife's aunt was thinking, but he wasn't about to take the time to find out. He realized he didn't care what she – or any of them – thought. Suddenly making up his mind, he knew what he had to do.

Reaching quickly, he grabbed an extra blanket off the end of the bed and bent down, scooping Michaela up into his arms, covers and all.

"What the...Put her _down_!" Olive yelled, incredulous.

"Hold on...where do you think you're takin' her?" Charlotte added gently as the others exchanged confused and worried glances, each one reaching protective hands toward their doctor friend.

Sully ignored everyone, intent on his mission as he turned and moved to the door. Daniel moved to block his way.

"Hold on Sully...what'ya doin'?" Daniel asked the man who was once his best friend. Looking at this 'wild' version of his friend, he wondered just how the events in his life had changed him. He wondered, also, if _this_ Sully, this...scruffy, 'mountain man' persona, was the image Michaela had been drawn to. He couldn't reconcile the thoughts.

Sully took a moment to perceive in his friend's eyes that he cared deeply for Michaela...maybe a little _too_ deeply. He wondered how long Daniel had been there, and what had transpired between he and Michaela.

For the first time since he'd kissed her cheek and went away to 'find himself', and in spite of the wonderful results of that expedition, he wondered if he'd stayed away just a tad too long.

Without a word, he refocused on the task at hand and ducked around the taller man, holding Michaela tight to his chest and continuing on into the hall. Charlotte and the others followed, confused, unsure whether to try and stop him or not.

"What the _deuce_ do you think you're doin'?" Olive vociferated at his retreating back, wondering why her niece's widower, who had been gone for years, had suddenly showed up, looking for all the world like an Indian, and was practically kidnapping their doctor!

"Gettin' help!" he barked over his shoulder, disappearing down the stairs and out the door. The others followed out on to the porch.

"She's in no condition to be goin' anywhere! And who the heck is THAT?" Daniel yelled, but for some reason he couldn't explain even to himself, chose not to physically intervene to stop Sully from taking Michaela.

As soon as his brother reappeared carrying the woman, Cloud Dancing quickly slid off his horse and came to Sully, instinctively knowing what he wanted to do. He took Michaela in his arms long enough for Sully to vault up on the pony, then the Indian carefully handed the unconscious woman up to him, his expression not revealing his alarm at her extremely high fever. Sully took her again and cradled her to his chest, making sure she was covered with the blankets.

Then he looked at the others who were staring at him incredulously and murmured, "He's a Cheyenne Medicine Man."

With that, the two nudged their horses and headed out of town with the wolf alongside, Dr. Mike nestled securely in Sully's arms.

Olive shook her head in disgust. Turning, she swept her arms wide to herd the others back in the doorway, muttering, "Well, I _never_!"

Daniel stood on the porch unmoving except for a lock of his blond hair blowing in the breeze, watching the slow moving horses and his friend carrying away the woman for whom he had begun to care deeply. He wondered why he hadn't stopped Sully from taking her away, why he hadn't grabbed her from his friend's arms and placed her back on the bed.

At that moment, he refused to analyze what this all meant in the scheme of things...why Michaela yelled Sully's name and within a very short time the man magically appeared...and why he himself unconsciously felt he had no right to interfere between them...

When the horses moved out of sight, Daniel sighed and turned to go back inside, wondering if he would ever see Michaela alive again.


	25. Chapter 25

CHAPTER 25

In a small clearing several miles from town Cloud Dancing laid the last stones that formed a large circle, as he had done for Sully's vision quest. He divided it into four quadrants and set down offerings of tobacco and a buffalo hide. The small fire he had already lit was burning in the circle.

Sully sat nearby with Michaela cradled in his arms, half concentrating on her and half on what his brother was doing. The wolf lay nearby, calmly observing all three humans. When the Indian finished spreading out the buffalo hide, he came near, fluttering crow feathers over Michaela, to purify her, then repeated the gesture with smoke from a pipe.

Then standing back, he instructed softly, "Place her in the medicine wheel."

Sully nodded and stood, placing Michaela reverently on the hide in the circle, near the fire, and then mirrored Cloud Dancing to sit cross-legged on either side of their patient.

The Medicine Man picked up a small pot of herbs he'd been brewing, poured a cup, and motioned for Sully to lift Michaela's head. He did, and as Cloud Dancing eased some of the brew into her mouth, she unexpectedly opened her eyes, staring at Sully's bearded face bending over her. Surprised, he managed a smile and stroked her hair, but the moment was quickly over and her eyes soon fluttered closed again.

Cloud Dancing sat back and began to chant a Cheyenne song to call on the healing spirits. The song was loud and seemed to pierce the air, startling the birds and small animals nearby.

He repeated this action over and over throughout the day, chanting to his spirits, and coaxing his patient to take some of the herbal brew. Sully watched over Michaela, stroking her hair, her face, her arm, making sure she remained covered by the blankets, and praying to Cloud Dancing's spirits and to the God of his childhood to let her live.

OOOOOOO

Michaela felt something hot touch her lips, a cup of sorts, and felt hot liquid enter her mouth. She swallowed by pure reflex, not really tasting the brew.

Images in her mind and physical sensations were confused and jumbled together. She thought she was in her bed at the boarding house, though she didn't remember going to bed...then she almost had the feeling of being in Sully's arms again, as she had been after he rescued her in the desert. But as her consciousness swam a little toward the surface of the deep pool in which she was lost, the bed felt more like hard ground. Voices were muffled, except an occasional loud piercing yell, but she was too exhausted to try and see who was yelling, or why.

Her dreams of Sully had taken a more pleasant turn as well, her latest one actually quite wonderful; they were racing across the desert, she on Flash, he on his black stallion, and she was winning. She looked back over her shoulder and grinned at him flirtatiously. He grinned back and she could see him urge the stallion faster. She laughed out loud in her dream and turned back around to continue on. When the race was over and they slowed the horses, she turned to look at his face. The sun was in her eyes and she had to strain to see, forcing her eyes open – but he appeared different. He seemed to have a beard, and his hair was longer. He even looked worried, although he smiled and reached to stroke her hair. It didn't make sense, and the effort exhausted her tiny store of strength.

Her subconscious, however, somehow knew she was safe, so she closed her eyes and slipped back into the world of dreams again, totally unaware of the intense vigil taking place on her behalf.

OOOOOOO

Hours had passed, as evidenced by the sun positioned much lower in the sky.

Michaela still hovered between sleep and unconsciousness, and Sully remained by her side making sure she was covered against the approaching cooler evening air. He reached for the cup to try and give her another sip.

Cloud Dancing rose again to walk the circle, chanting, but quite a bit softer than he had earlier in the day. Then suddenly he threw a tobacco offering on the coals and turned to walk away.

Sully watched him with concern, not understanding. Was he giving up? Giving his patient a quick glance, he rose and followed, reaching out to grasp the Indian's muscled arm.

"Will she live?"

Cloud Dancing met his eyes, turned to stare at the prone woman, and back at his brother.

"She fights hard," he stated matter-of-factly.

Sully already knew that. Michaela always fought hard in all aspects of her life. That wasn't the question.

"But will she _live_?" he queried again, urgently.

Now the wise Indian gave a small smile offering almost teasingly, "_That_ is up to _you._"

Then he turned and continued on into the woods to relieve himself, which was where he was headed in the first place.

OOOOOOO

The men kept up their vigil all night, with Sully barely sleeping a wink. He had settled himself into position on the ground, cradling Michaela's head and shoulders on his lap as he huddled in his blanket poncho, the wolf asleep against his thigh helping to keep him warm. Wishing they were back at camp and inside his teepee, he kept the night breeze off of her the best he could, while Cloud Dancing made sure to keep their campfire burning strongly. Throughout the long night, the Indian brewed several more batches of the healing tea, silently observing his brother's dedication in caring for the woman.

As soon as it was light, the men packed up and returned to town with their patient. When they reached the boarding house, Sully entered carrying Michaela, still wrapped warmly in the blankets. She hadn't regained consciousness again. They were followed by Cloud Dancing carrying the clay pot filled with the herb tea in one hand and a bag of the dried herbs in the other. They entered the center door and ascended the stairs, encountering Olive coming out of a room with an armload of sheets. She stopped and gave the trio the once over, wondering about this Cheyenne 'friend' of Sully's, then sized up Dr. Mike's condition.

"Well, she don't look no _worse_."

"She needs a sip of this tea every hour," Sully instructed as he carried Michaela into her room at the end of the hall and laid her on the bed, which Charlotte had just finished freshening with clean sheets and blankets. She now stood back to watch. Cloud Dancing handed Olive the clay pot. She met the Indian's dark, serious eyes with a look of doubt, sniffed the pot and made a face.

Sully motioned toward the buckskin bag in his friend's hand. "And there's enough leaves there to brew tea for the others."

Daniel came to the doorway, eyed the medicine man suspiciously, and then watched Sully lovingly unwrap Michaela from the covers in which he had transported her and settle her comfortably in the bed as she softly moaned.

Charlotte glanced at the others, and then reached for the bag, offering a smile of gratitude to the tall, handsome Indian. "I'll do it. Come help me, Colleen," she instructed her daughter, who had just stuck her head in the door. The two quickly left to carry out the instructions.

Sully pulled a chair up next to the bed and took the clay pot from Olive. With practiced ease, he gently lifted Michaela's head and coaxed a sip into her mouth, catching with his finger several drops that overflowed. Then he felt of her forehead, nodding once as if in answer to his own question that yes, her fever still seemed lower than the previous day. He was worried the cold of the night and the stress of bringing her back would cause a relapse, and he was determined that wouldn't happen.

Daniel watched his friend's ministrations and noticed how familiar Sully seemed in his actions toward the beautiful Michaela – as if he were used to touching her and taking care of her. The thought made him grit his teeth hard, but he remained silent. Instead, he moved to the chair by the wall next to the bed and took a seat across from his friend.

When Sully was satisfied Michaela was stable, he made sure she was tucked in and sat back in the chair with a tired sigh. It had been a long twenty-four hours since he woke up in his comfortable teepee at the reservation, and a very long and cold night 'on duty'. But he wasn't complaining. He knew she had done as much and more for him – on more than one occasion. And at this point, he wanted to be the one to be taking care of her. He could finally tell her his feelings – tell them all – he felt like shouting them from the roof. He couldn't wait for her to wake up.

"Where ya been for over three months, huh, Sully?" Daniel asked softly, but with a bit of an edge to his voice.

Sully raised his eyes to meet his friend's across the expanse of the bed, silently reading him, just like he always could. Choosing to ignore his friend's query, he asked one of his own.

"How long you been here, huh, Daniel? And where _you_ been for the past...how many years?"

"I got here almost four weeks ago – to catch up with ya, see how you were gettin' along." With that, Daniel remembered about Sully's wife and he pressed his lips together for a moment. "I...uh...I heard about Abby. I'm sorry, Sully. Sorry I was so far outta touch..."

Sully clamped his lips together and gave a shake of his head, moving one hand in a 'don't worry about it,' gesture. "S'okay. I, uh...didn't 'xactly try and send ya a telegram or anything. I didn't stick around here long after she...they..." he stumbled to a halt, glancing at the door to the room as he just realized Cloud Dancing had silently slipped away. He felt bad that he hadn't thanked him, _enough_, for his help.

Glancing back at his one time best friend, he continued, "Her Pa - well, you know how he was about us gettin' married anyway..." he paused and Daniel nodded. "Loren blamed me when Abby...and I just couldn't stick around."

"Michaela...Dr. Mike, told me you went away and wound up in Arizona and she met you there. What was ya doin' in _Arizona_?" Daniel queried, the question having been burning in his mind ever since Michaela had mentioned it.

Sully studied his friend – whom he would once have trusted with his life. Now...he saw a man who might very well be a rival for the woman he loved, so he chose his words carefully, knowing Charlotte was the only person in town besides Michaela that knew he had been in the army. "I...spent a lot 'a time lookin' for a shady spot."

"Yeah, but I mean...what were ya do..."

"So what about you?" Sully interrupted. "You ever find that gold mine you wanted?"

Daniel narrowed his eyes, wondering if Sully was hiding something. Unable to imagine what it could be, he shrugged lightly and consented to changing the subject.

"Sure did. Got real lucky," he murmured with a tiny smile of satisfaction.

"That a fact? How lucky?"

Daniel tilted his head back and laughed softly. "Ain't you got no manners no more? You don't ask a man how much his gold mine's worth. But no matter, cause I sold it anyhow."

"Sold it!" Sully gaped, incredulous. "Why?"

Daniel shrugged again, glancing at the woman on the bed. "Oh...cause I found out that the lookin' and the searchin' was more excitin' than the findin'. The money was nice, but...it made me wish I had...somebody ta share it with – you know?"

Sully glanced at Michaela also, and then back at his friend. "Yeah...I _do_ know. You, uh...ever meet a woman you could...do any sharin' with?" he asked cautiously, unconsciously holding his breath.

Daniel swallowed and leaned forward, elbows on knees, looking straight into his long-time friend's eyes.

"I think I just might have, Sully. If she'll have me," he murmured softly, meaningfully.

The two friends locked eyes and stared long and hard, each remembering past arguments and fights, their contests always evenly matched. Though Daniel was a taller, bigger man, Sully was quick and agile, and could fight dirty if he had to. He could put a larger man on his back before his opponent could blink an eye – and Daniel knew it. Neither one wished for this to become a physical fight – but at that moment, neither one could stand the thought of losing to the other the possible hand of the lovely lady doctor.

Sully swallowed dryly, realizing that this new challenger for Michaela's love was yet another man with money. _No...she told me in that vision that riches, position, and influence don't matter to her. I know she cares about me...she risked prison to help me... _Sully encouraged himself. But the nagging thought came that Michaela would probably do that for anyone she cared about...

Saying nothing, Sully finally turned his attention back to Michaela. He reached for her hand, folding it securely between his larger ones, gazing at her as she moaned softly, reacting to something in her unconscious dreams

Daniel sat back and relaxed in the chair, observing.

He wondered how this would all turn out...at the end would he have a woman to share his life with?

Or leave his friend and the woman behind forever...


	26. Chapter 26

_AN - If Sully Lover, B, Love, Rita, and Tammy E. and lionlady7146ver, are reading this, I want to thank you for your reviews of Truly Home. I always thank each reviewer personally and feel bad when I can't. Thanks also to everyone who has reviewed Michaela's Choice as a guest or anonymous, I appreciate you so much, each and every review! So thank you! _

And now...

CHAPTER 26

Michaela slowly opened her eyes and saw the shadowed ceiling of her room at the boarding house. She realized what had awakened her was that she had started to sweat as the fever broke, and she wondered how long she had been ill. Weakly lifting a shaky hand, she wiped a bit of perspiration off her forehead.

Slowly realizing she wasn't alone in the room, she turned her head slightly and her eyes widened to find Sully asleep in a chair next to her bed, his head resting against the wall.

_Sully!_ _He came back!_ She blinked several times to make sure she was really seeing him and he wasn't just a figment of her imagination. But...he looked so different. His hair was longer, he'd let his beard grow...and he was wearing buckskins and beads. She wondered if she was dreaming again.

"Sully," she whispered, her voice not working. He didn't stir. She tried again, attempting to moisten her dry lips. "Sully?" She reached a weak hand toward him.

He startled with a soft gasp and opened his eyes to check on her, silently grousing for having fallen asleep 'on duty.' When he realized she was gazing back at him, his face transformed from concern to a relieved smile that lit up his countenance and made his tired eyes twinkle.

"Hey..." he whispered. "Welcome back..."

She managed a weak smile. "That should be _my_ line."

He snickered softly, loving that she felt well enough to joke with him. "Yeah..."

Her brows knitted as she tried to make sense of the elapsed time. "How...how long have I...?" she rasped.

Before she could continue, he held a finger up and whispered, "Don't...don't go away," and made his way to the door of the room.

Seeing Charlotte down the hall, he whispered, "Hey..." and she turned to see the joy and relief in his eyes.

"She awake?"

He nodded happily and turned to rejoin Michaela, going quickly to her side and taking her free hand in his.

She had just picked up the cup from the bedside table and sniffed the unfamiliar concoction, now cold, and wrinkled her nose at its unusual smell. She remembered running out of quinine...what had they been giving her?

Charlotte came to the door and smiled at their patient, moving on in as Olive, Colleen, Emily, and finally Daniel came in, the latter with a fresh cup of the brew. He smiled in relief when he saw her awake.

"Well, woman, welcome back to the livin'," Charlotte grinned, easing down in the chair on the opposite side from Sully.

"Yeah, Dr. Mike – we were real worried about ya," Colleen added, plopping down at the foot of the bed.

"I'd say you're on the mend, Dr. Mike. You surely did have us all worried...and the actions of this one did, too," Emily added with a nod toward Sully, who hadn't moved, but was gazing at her face and holding tight to her hand.

Everyone noticed his attention, and each had his or her own private thoughts about this development.

Charlotte smiled knowingly, as she had sensed since the day they arrived from Arizona that these two felt something for each other.

Olive narrowed her eyes and watched, still not used to Sully being back after missing for two years. The last time she saw him he was crying his eyes out over the death of his wife, her niece. Now, he looked more like a savage than the hard working miner he was before, and he was obviously in love with the town doc! She wondered what had transpired between them.

Colleen merely thought it romantic, how Sully had known Dr. Mike needed him and had come back from parts unknown – like the hero in the romance story featured in the weekly paper she and her friends had been reading. It was as if he'd received a note that read, "My dearest Sully, I am in dire need of your assistance..." and he had come running to her rescue. The girl was practically starry-eyed over it.

But Daniel...he stood near the door, watching the interaction between Sully and Michaela. Not really listening to the conversation, he could only watch as his friend sat by her side with her hand in his, his eyes never leaving her face. He watched as Michaela glanced from him to one of the others as they addressed her, and then back to Sully, as if she couldn't quite believe he was actually there with her. The memory of her screaming Sully's name while they were tending to her during her delirious fever stabbed him like a knife.

_But...I asked her about the two of them and she said they were just good friends. Well...I mean to be more than that to her. If there's any chance at all for me, I gotta try. I saw Abby first, but Sully swept her off her feet. This time...I'm gonna go at it with gun's a blazin'..._he vowed, leaning back against the door jam as he silently made his plans.

OOOOOOOO

"One more sip, okay?" Sully murmured as he held the spoon once again to Michaela's lips, coaxing her into taking another mouthful of Grace's delicious chicken soup.

She took it, but then shook her head as he dipped the spoon in the bowl for another. "That's all, Sully. I've had enough...thank you," she whispered, still trying to regain her strength from her four day bout with the influenza.

He smiled and nodded, placing the bowl on the bedside table.

Charlotte came in the room on her rounds, unconsciously mimicking Michaela's actions during the worst of the epidemic.

"Well, how's the patient comin' along?" she asked with a grin. Sully threw a smile at her over his shoulder and then back at Michaela.

"She ate almost half the bowl," he said proudly, as if it were an amazing feat.

"That's good," she nodded, reaching for the bowl. "Think y'll want any more 'a this, Dr. Mike?"

Michaela shook her head, still very weak, and placed her hands on the bed to try and scoot back down flat, wishing to take a nap. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes open.

Sully immediately understood and reached to assist. She smiled her gratitude into his eyes, only inches from hers.

When she was settled and he had tucked her in, she whispered, "Thank you, Sully." She wanted to keep gazing at him, half afraid he would disappear again, but her eyelids were too heavy.

"You're welcome. Now you just go ta sleep. That's it..." he soothed, smoothing a lock of hair back from her face.

"You..." she murmured, forcing her eyes open again.

"Ssshhh, I'll be right here," he whispered as she closed her eyes with a tiny smile and relaxed into the pillow.

Before long her even breathing told him she had slipped off to sleep again. He allowed himself to gaze down at her, caressing her features with his eyes. Unable to resist, he cast a glance over his shoulder and leaned over her. Holding his medicine bag and necklace back with one hand, he pressed his lips lovingly to her forehead for a long moment, thinking how grateful he was that she had made it through the dreaded 'grippe.' And how thankful he was to have met Cloud Dancing at just the right time. Sully knew that without his new brother's knowledge of herbal medicine, Michaela would most likely have succumbed to her illness.

Just as Sully's lips touched Michaela's face, Daniel stepped silently to the door, watching his friend giving Dr. Mike a reverent kiss. His stomach knotted. He could tell Sully felt something strong for Michaela. Indeed, his friend's actions mirrored his own heart's desires. But Daniel remembered how 'in love' Sully and Abby had been, and he wondered how Sully felt now. Had he gotten over his wife so quickly? He didn't stop to realize that it had been two long years for Sully, but for _him_, it had only been a matter of weeks since he found out the sad news, so it was still a fresh shock.

As Sully sat back in his chair he sensed someone was there, turned his head, and met his friend's eyes. Neither spoke as they read one another's thoughts. Each remembered how they used to be such close friends...so much so that they could finish each other's sentences, even sense when one or the other was in trouble and come running to lend a hand. Daniel once spent twenty-two days digging Sully out of a mine cave-in, saving Sully's life because he wouldn't give up. Likewise, when they were kids Sully once carried Daniel on his back many miles to get him to a doctor when he had broken his ankle.

Now, both men mused how females can worm their way in, separating male friends and causing a parting of the ways. First Abby, and now...

With a sigh, Daniel raised a hand to run through his blonde hair as he cleared his throat.

"Um...does that wolf out there belong to you?"

Sully brow furrowed. "Well, not 'xactly...why?"

"It's, uh...actin' like it's waitin' for you. And...your Indian friend's back."

"Oh...thanks," Sully mumbled, turning to cast one more gaze at Michaela before rising from his chair and moving to the door.

The men guardedly met each other's eyes, face to face.

"I'll sit with her," Daniel offered quietly.

Sully hesitated about that, but since Michaela was asleep...

"I'll be back soon," he murmured, disappearing down the hall.

OOOOOOOO

Sully stepped out on the porch of the boarding house, smiling up at his Indian brother as he sat nonchalantly on the Indian pony.

"Haho, Cloud Dancin'," he greeted, moving to the side of the horse and extending his arm for their traditional greeting. Several people walking down the street scooted to the far side and stared as they went past, heading toward the mercantile.

"Haho. How is your woman?" the Indian responded, causing Sully's eyes to widen for a moment.

"She...she ain't my _woman_..." he stammered, then at the Indian's calm smile, he went on, "She's much better this mornin'. Her fever broke last night. She even ate a little soup awhile ago."

Cloud Dancing nodded sagely. "That is good. I am glad my medicine worked for her."

Sully nodded in full agreement. "Cloud Dancin'...I don't know how ta thank you, for everythin'...for all ya did for me...and for helpin' me get Michaela well..." Sully paused, wishing he had the words to adequately describe his gratitude.

The Indian smiled again and nodded in acknowledgment.

They gazed into each other's eyes for a few moments, each wondering if their friendship would continue, or if their worlds were too different to coexist.

Finally, the medicine man took up his horse's reins and began to turn back toward the way he had come, but paused and smiled down at his younger white brother. Somehow, he felt that their paths would cross again, many times...that the spirits had not put them together for just a short season.

"_Now_, Sully...you must tell her all that is in your heart. Do not hold back. Do not keep things hidden from her. If she is meant to be with you, she will understand all."

Sully pressed his lips together and nodded.

Cloud Dancing made the sign for farewell, reached down to clasp Sully's forearm once more, and then nudged his horse into motion. Sully watched his friend, his black hair fluffing in the breeze as he disappeared around the corner.

The wolf, which had been waiting patiently on the porch next to the door, rose and walked to Sully's side, nuzzling his right hand and giving it a tiny lick.

Sully glanced down in slight surprise. "Don't ya wanna go with Cloud Dancin', boy?"

The animal whined softly, almost a whisper, and stared up into his eyes as if to say _I'm not going with him anymore...I'm staying with you._

Sully crouched down and placed his hands gently on the sides of the animal's face, fondly ruffling his ears, enjoying the softness of his fur.

"You're stayin' with me, huh, boy? Okay. I'm honored. I'll have ta think of a name for ya, huh?" he murmured, chuckling softly when the wolf raised a paw as if to 'shake hands.' "But 'til then, I guess I'll just call ya 'Wolf'...if that's okay."

The animal, his long pink tongue poking out of his mouth a bit as he panted, leaned in and gave Sully's cheek a tiny slurp, as if saying he was okay with the name.

Sully chuckled again, moving his head back a little in reaction.

"Okay. Wolf, it is. Wait here a minute, I gotta tell Charlotte somethin'," he ordered. But when he stood and moved, the wolf made to follow.

Sully snapped his fingers and pointed to the porch. "Stay." The animal understood that word and he instantly obeyed.

Sully stuck his head inside the boarding house's kitchen door.

"Charlotte, I'm gonna go home and get cleaned up. Be back in awhile, okay?"

She turned from stirring the sheets boiling in her largest kettle, wiping the back of one hand across her forehead as she gave him a look.

"Okay. So...this mean you're back ta stay?" She asked with a teasing grin.

He grinned back. "Yep."

Her smile fading, she turned fully toward him as she wiped her hands on her apron.

"Sully...don't hurt her..." she paused, meeting his eyes.

The look in his eyes spoke volumes.

"I'd rather _die_ than hurt her, Charlotte. You got my word," he declared quietly. His long time friend nodded in satisfaction.

Then with a quick turn and the shutting of the door, he was gone.


	27. Chapter 27

CHAPTER 27

Michaela awoke and opened her eyes. The soft light shining through the window curtains cast lovely designs on the wall. She wondered what time it was, guessing perhaps mid afternoon. Sensing a presence to her right, she turned her head, her smile fading when she found Daniel there, reading a several-weeks-old copy of the Gazette.

He glanced up when he noticed movement, and flashing his most charming smile at her, he said, "Hello, Dr. Mike. You had a nice long nap...how ya feelin'?"

"Much better, thank you. Um..." she hesitated, glancing around the room, but seeing no evidence that Sully had even been there. The clay pot was gone. Her brow furrowed as she searched her memories of the last time she was awake. Surely she had not dreamed he was back! Did she only imagine him feeding her chicken soup? _I thought he said he'd be right here when I woke up..._

Daniel watched the play of emotions on her face and accurately guessed she was wondering about Sully. _But dang if I'll help his case—he left and he ain't been back – that leaves the field wide open for ME._

"You hungry? Grace just brought some more chicken soup, might still be hot," he offered gently.

Michaela realized she was, indeed, hungry, and nodded. He eagerly rose and stepped to the bureau by the door to retrieve the soup, bringing the bowl to the bed and making a place for it on the nightstand. She reached awkwardly for the spoon, inwardly frustrated that she had so little strength. She hated feeling weak and had always despised needing help from anyone.

He noticed her hesitation and rather clumsily tried spoon-feeding her. Although delicious as always, she felt rather odd accepting help from him, feeling decidedly self-conscious under his watchful eye. She thought about the last time she was awake, and how easy this same chore had been for Sully – and how she had felt so natural with him. _But...had she been dreaming?_

After she had consumed more than half the bowl, she indicated she'd had about enough. Then she lifted a hand up to her hair, knowing she must look a sight. Daniel noticed her actions, once again correctly guessing her thoughts.

"Would ya...um...want me to get Charlotte to help ya with..." he paused, gesturing toward her hair with one hand.

She blushed a little and nodded, and he smiled understandingly and placed the bowl back on the table. "Be right back."

A few minutes later, Charlotte came bustling in with a washcloth and towels, Matthew and Daniel behind her carrying buckets of hot water.

"Just set 'em down fellas...and shut the door on your way out," Charlotte instructed as she turned toward her friend in the bed. "Thought you'd feel a mite better if we gotcha cleaned up...I know it always makes _me_ feel more on the human side."

"Oh Charlotte, that sounds heavenly," Michaela sighed gratefully as the door closed behind the guys.

Weakly moving to a sitting position, Michaela looked down at her very soiled chemise.

"My goodness..." she mused, her fingers plucking shakily at the buttons.

Her friend cast her a look, chuckling softly as she laid out the towels and arranged the buckets within reach. "Looks like some 'a that Injun brew Sully and that 'medicine man' fed ya. It shore did the trick, though."

At the mention of Sully's name, Michaela's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Sully?"

At her friend's questioning look, Michaela blushed and lowered her eyes back to the task at hand. "I...I wasn't sure if I dreamed he was here, or..."

"Nope, weren't no dream. The rascal came back, all right," Charlotte quipped as she continued her task.

Michaela managed to hide her elation at this information. For the next few minutes the two women worked together in silence with Charlotte helping Michaela when needed.

"Ya wanna wash your hair? Whatdya use on it?" Charlotte asked as she passed Michaela a towel.

"I still have some of my special soap I brought from Boston...over there," Michaela indicated the wash stand in the corner. Charlotte retrieved the bottle and opened it, breathing in its lovely fragrance.

"Mmm, that smells good. What's in it?" Charlotte asked, helping Michaela bend over the second bucket to wet her long hair.

"Um...I believe it is a mixture of alkali, natural oils and fragrances. My mother orders it from a tiny apothecary shop in Boston. If I remember correctly...the proprietor brought back the recipe from India."

"_India_?" Charlotte asked with a gasp, unable to imagine such a thing...and wondering how much something like that would cost. She washed _her_ hair with plain old soap.

Michaela glanced sideways at her friend with a half grin. "Yes...and I'm hoping she will be willing to ship me a bottle when mine runs out."

Charlotte helped Michaela smooth it in and work it up into a lather. It gave off a heavenly aroma. "Now I see why your hair always looks and smells so good," the midwife cooed softly, enjoying the feel of Michaela's long silken mane in her hands.

"Well...I suppose my hair is my one vanity...although when I was a child I hated it."

"Hated your _hair_? What ever for?"

"I thought it much too straight. I would sleep all night on rollers and before lunchtime came the next day it would be straight as a pin again. I was so jealous of other girls who wore ringlets to school," Michaela recalled with a wry grin.

Charlotte shook her head and chuckled. "We females. All of us are more critical of ourselves than others ever are. Such wasted time."

"Indeed."

After a few minutes, Charlotte took on the role of an older sister, and helped Michaela rinse out the fragrant suds and then pat the water out with a towel. After running a comb through the long tresses, she helped her friend dress in a clean gown. She smiled understandingly as she watched Michaela then sit back against the headboard, exhausted.

Though Michaela felt much better, she longed for a nap, her small amount of renewed strength quickly depleted.

Before long, she had snuggled down into the warm covers and was once again fast asleep.

OOOOOOO

"Your move," Daniel reminded Michaela as they played chess together later that afternoon.

"Oh yes...I'm sorry," she murmured, blushing that she had once again lapsed into daydreams of she and Sully playing the game. She wondered for the tenth time where he was...and if he was going to come back and check on her.

Sighing she stared at the board, finally deciding to move one of her pawns. It was an unwise move, however, and left one of her knights open to being immediately captured. Daniel wasted no time in completing that play.

"Oh my, that was foolish," she muttered, glancing across the board at her opponent with a half grin.

He grinned back. "Yep, it was." He paused and then chuckled. "And shame on me for takin' advantage of ya. I know you ain't at yer best tonight."

"Oh no, don't feel badly. If our positions were reversed, I assure you I would afford you no mercy," she returned with a rise of one eyebrow, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

Daniel laughed out loud. "Is that right? I'll remember that, then."

He paused again, gazing at her face in unabashed adoration as she unconsciously chewed on a fingernail and studied the board, deciding her next play. When she had decided, she reached out and moved a piece, then looked up at him in triumph when she realized she had placed one of his knights in immediate jeopardy. Their eyes met and held for a moment as she read the emotion in his. She paused; uncertain of how to take the depth of feeling he had allowed her to see.

Suddenly, the clearing of a throat interrupted the silence in the room.

They both turned toward the door to find Sully leaning against the doorframe watching.

"Sully!" Michaela gasped softly, incredibly pleased to see him, but on the heels of that thought wondering just how long he'd been standing there. Her eyes caressed him, taking in his freshly washed hair... his clean-shaven face... his shirt, a very attractive blue stripe... several strands of Indian beads around his neck...his clean and form-fitting buckskin trousers. The blue of his eyes fairly glowed as they met her gaze, and she felt her heart speed up.

"Dr. Mike," he greeted softly. "Daniel..." he added, flicking his eyes to his friend for a moment before returning them to Michaela.

"Sully," Daniel returned, silently grousing that his friend had showed up just when he had been making what he felt was a little headway with the lovely doctor.

After a few more moments, Sully pushed away from the doorframe and moved into the room. His eyes caressed Michaela, from the top of her head and her freshly washed hair – he could smell its lovely scent from several feet away...to her robe with its buttons done up to her neck. The rest was covered under several blankets. He studied her face, and was very relieved to see she looked much improved.

"So...who's winnin'?" he asked with a smile that was directed only at Michaela.

"Oh, _he_ is... I'm afraid I'm a little off my game tonight," she answered with a shy smile for the penetrating way he was gazing at her. Every time he had ever gazed at her since the day they met, she always _felt_ it on her skin like a physical caress. _Oh, if he only knew what those eyes of his do to me..._she mused hazily.

"Mmm," he answered her comment.

Watching the pair, Daniel began to feel quite uncomfortable and no longer needed, somewhat akin to an old horse being put out to pasture.

Clearing his throat, he stood and made a point of stretching his back as if tired, even affecting a yawn.

"Well, if you don't mind, Dr. Mike, I think I'll call it a night. The long hours must be catchin' up with me." He waited a few beats to see if she would beg him to stay, but she kept gazing at Sully and he at her, so with a soft sigh Daniel moved toward the door.

"Oh...um, goodnight Daniel. Thank you for keeping me company," Michaela belatedly called to him as he passed Sully, the two men pausing a moment to wordlessly meet each other's gazes, before Daniel nodded and continued on out the door.

Sully made a point of closing the door after him, nearly shut, leaving it open a few inches for propriety, but affording them a little privacy. Then, he turned and met her eyes again as he slowly sauntered to the chair Daniel had just vacated and eased himself down.

"Hey," he greeted again, softly.

"Hello," she answered shyly, her eyes shining with joy now that he was once again with her.

"So...how ya feelin'?"

"Oh, I'm much better today...but I've...um...been wondering about _you_..."

"Yeah...sorry," he murmured, reaching for one of her hands and taking it in both of his. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, relishing in the tingling feeling his touch always produced, the strength and warmth of his hands, and how right hers felt cocooned within their grasp.

"I went home to get cleaned up, and fell asleep," he admitted with a dimpled smile. "I guess burnin' the midnight oil two nights in a row finally caught up with me."

"Two nights?" she asked, having no idea as no one had informed her of anything that had occurred while she was ill.

He nodded, his eyes still caressing her features. "When I came back and found ya so sick and there was no medicine, well...I took ya to see a friend of mine..."

A memory surfaced and she asked, "Charlotte mentioned...an Indian medicine man?"

He nodded again.

Suddenly, insatiable curiosity got the better of her and she gushed, "Sully... please tell me everything. Where you've been these past months...and about your friend..."

He smiled, and remembering his brother's admonishment to tell Michaela all, drew in a deep breath as he organized his thoughts.

"Well...it's like this..." he began, slowly telling her of his time at his secret place and his confusion and doubt about his future. He told her of the amazing day he met his new friend and brother, how their hearts were instantly in tune with each other, and how Cloud Dancing's 'spirits' had told him ahead of time that they would meet. He related how the wise Indian had advised and mentored him, helping him lay to rest the hurts and disappointments of his past. He regaled her with stories of the wonderful people he had met at the reservation, including Cloud Dancing's wife Snowbird, and their chief, Black Kettle, even demonstrating his new ability at speaking quite a few Cheyenne words and making his bird 'song'. He shared about the beautiful black and white wolf that had 'adopted' him and was now his constant companion.

He explained about Cloud Dancing being the tribe's Medicine Man, and that he knew exactly how to make the special tea that mercifully brought her fever down and did so for the rest of the grippe-stricken townsfolk. She listened in rapt attention as he described how they had placed her inside the 'medicine wheel' and how he had tended to her throughout the night, and she was profoundly touched at the depth of his care and concern.

Finally, he told her of his vision quest, although the doctor in her objected strenuously to a man going three days and nights with no food or water. He did leave a few details out concerning revelations he had received during the quest, choosing to wait until the 'right' time for that. He wanted more than anything to sweep her into his arms and declare his love, but something made him hold back until he could be sure of her response.

Michaela drank in every word, picturing him up on the cliff alone and miserable until this mysterious medicine man had appeared, and then picturing him in the company of the Indians as the days and weeks had passed.

"Sully...I would very much like to meet your new friends...do you think that would be alright?" She asked after he imparted a particularly endearing story of a small Cheyenne boy named "No Harm," dancing around the campfire.

Remembering how quickly they had folded him into their midst and made him feel so welcome – and Cloud Dancing knowing how important Michaela was to Sully – he felt sure they would respond the same to her.

"Sure," he grinned, mentally figuring how soon he could bring that about.

Michaela grinned back, realizing again how she had missed his presence and _friendship_, and how she achingly longed to be involved in every aspect of his life. And more than anything, she wished he would just gather her into his arms and declare his love, as she so wanted to do in return. But as the evening wore on, the hoped-for declaration never came.

Soon others - Colleen, Brian, Matthew, Olive, Emily, Charlotte, and a recovering Dorothy, joined them. Grace and even Robert E. stopped by to see how their friend Dr. Mike was doing, and Myra popped in for a visit. Each one had a different story to tell or memory to share about the awful week of the influenza they had just survived together.

Then finally as night approached, Michaela found herself stifling yawns and trying to keep her eyes open, much to her consternation. Sully chuckled fondly when he caught her in her third yawn, and stood to his feet, suggesting to the others that they should let the doctor get her rest or she might relapse.

As the others said their goodnights and filed out, Sully turned back to the bed and smiled down at her once more, then impulsively leaned down and pressed his smooth, warm lips to her cheek. This time however, much as she had done in the desert that day, she turned her face and he leaned in again, brushing her lips with his, causing tingles to race up and down their spines.

Pulling back, he whispered, "'Night, Dr. Mike. I'll see ya tomorrow."

He moved to the door, paused and gazed at her once more, then continued on down the hall, leaving her with her lips tingling from the chaste, but enchanting kiss.

Closing her eyes, she was blissfully asleep in minutes, and like a schoolgirl with her first beau, she spent the night dreaming of blue eyes, buckskins, and magical kisses such as she'd never known before.


	28. Chapter 28

_AN: I was able to finish off three more chapters over the week, and since I should be able to bring the story to a conclusion with two more, I thought I would begin putting up two chapters a week - Mondays and Fridays. At this point, the story should have 63 or 64 chapters. I've written through 61. Hope you enjoy my efforts! LOL, my husband keeps telling me I care more about writing and pleasing my readers than I do him. :( _

And now...

CHAPTER 28

Two mornings later, Michaela made her way down the stairs. Her legs were still a bit shaky, but she was determined to resume her life and practice. She had come very close to passing from this life, and now she wanted to treasure every moment and make the best of every day.

Sully and Daniel had been almost competing to be the one at her beck and call, and while she was fond of Daniel and felt he was a good friend, there were times when she wished he would just back off, times when she longed for an opportunity for her and Sully to just be alone and enjoy each other's company the way they had at the fort. She sighed now with the memory of those treasured horse back rides...the hot Arizona wind blowing her hair, and the even hotter gazes afforded her by Sully's smoldering blue eyes.

She reached the door and stepped out onto the porch, drawing her shawl tightly around her arms and breathing in deeply, relishing the crisp autumn air. It was the first time she had ventured outside since the epidemic was in full swing, and it was exhilarating to be out in the fresh air again. She chuckled at herself, feeling almost giddy with excitement over making a trip to the mercantile, as if it were one of the finest shops in Boston.

Waiting a moment for a wagon to go by, she stepped down into the street and made her way along, nodding at people as they hurried about their business.

"Welcome back to the livin', _Michaela_," a familiar drawl called from across the street. She turned her head to see Hank, the barkeep, lounging against a porch post. Smoke from an ever-present cheroot billowed around his blonde curls.

"Thank you, _Hank_," she replied demurely, foregoing her usual admonishment that she had not given him permission to use her given name. "How's the arm?"

He held up the mended member. "Right as rain. You're even better at stitchin' than Jake...but don't tell him it was me that said it," he added with his customary chuckle.

She raised an eyebrow and inclined her head in thanks for the compliment. "I won't," she murmured and he nodded in return.

Though Hank knew she didn't approve of his way of life – and especially his 'girls' –deep down he respected the lady doc from Boston. He watched her walk slowly on toward the mercantile, his eyes sweeping down her skirt and settling on the gentle sway of her hips.

Thinking back to how she'd stood up to his bullying and gave him sass before she agreed to sew up his arm, he slowly shook his head with a naughty grin. _The fella who gets ta harness that filly is gonna be gettin' himself one he**uva woman. Wouldn't mind lightin' up that stick 'a dynamite myself! _Images of a naked Dr. Mike writhing under him began to assail his mind, so before his fantasies could get out of control, he turned with a smirk and moseyed back inside his saloon.

Michaela walked a few yards toward the store and heard her name called again. "Dr. Mike!" But this voice was the one she heard in her dreams. She stopped and turned, smiling as she watched Sully hurrying toward her from the direction of the livery.

"G'mornin'," he huffed a bit as he reached her, placing a hand at her elbow to guide her more out of the way of a rider who wasn't watching where he was going.

"Good morning, Sully. Isn't it a beautiful morning?" she responded happily.

"Sure is," he agreed, but thinking _her_ beauty outshined anything nature could produce. "Good ta see ya up and around."

"It's good to _be_ up and around. I abhor being ill." She gazed up at him, taking in his appearance and marveling that she was already accustomed to seeing him in buckskins after months of nothing but dark blue wool uniforms. He seemed more..._himself_, in the soft, brushed leather...more relaxed. Watching him for a moment, she could clearly see how much he had benefited from his time away and his friendship with Cloud Dancing. Even though she had missed and longed for his companionship, it was obvious it had all been worth it.

"I know whatcha mean. Me, too. Goin' ta the store?" he asked with a warm smile.

"Yes, I need to get a few things..." she paused, wondering if Sully had actually talked to Loren since he had come back – and hoping they could avoid an unpleasant confrontation.

"I'll walk ya," he murmured as they turned toward her destination.

Moments later they entered the mercantile together and went their separate ways, each heading to a different side. Sully strolled over to pick up a bag each of coffee, flour, and sugar, but dreading that he needed to ask Loren for credit. He was hoping he could catch Maude alone at the cash box and ask _her_...

"Mornin' Dr. Mike," Maude greeted as she came from the storage room with a large armful of blankets.

"Good morning, Maude. How _are_ you?" Michaela responded, though concerned at the obvious stress and exertion the load was inflicting on the woman.

Maude shrugged, started to say something, but clamped her mouth shut when her husband came out of the spare room on the other side - the room that had belonged to their daughter. Each time Loren spent any time in Abby's old room, it seemed to bring it all back again. Just as she saw him, she also saw, browsing among their customers, their former son-in-law. The woman's heart jumped as she anticipated the coming confrontation.

Right on cue, Loren came face to face with Sully and exploded, "YOU! I told you I didn't want you in here!"

Michaela's head whipped around, ready to rush to Sully's defense. Several elderly lady customers backed away, hands fluttering at their mouths, unsure of what would happen. But before anyone could move, or Sully could say anything, Maude gave a loud gasp and bent over. Then she let out a loud groan and a yell and dropped the blankets, pressing her hands to her chest as she stumbled back.

Michaela immediately turned back around and everyone came running as she bent over the stricken woman.

"Maude! Where's the powder?!" Michaela asked urgently, as she worked to unfasten the top button on Maude's dress in an effort to feel her pulse.

Maude tried to speak, but the pain was too great. Sully came skidding to a stop and knelt by Michaela. "Maude? What is it, Dr. Mike? What's wrong with her?" he asked, trying to comfort his former mother-in-law.

"Get away from her! Don't touch her!" Loren bellowed as he reached them, reaching down to try and drag the two of them away from his distressed wife.

Michaela shook him off, concentrating hard on her patient. "Maude! Listen to me!" she pleaded, grasping the woman's arms and striving to get a response. "The powder – where is it?"

"G...g...gone," Maude panted and grimaced, gritting her teeth, the pain worse than it had ever been.

"Oh my God!" Michaela gasped, knowing without the precious Digitalis, Maude was doomed.

Without hesitation, she turned to an extremely concerned Sully, grasping his shirtfront to make him look at her. "Sully – I need you to run to my clinic and bring me the bottle of Digitalis powder from the locked cabinet. Here's the key," she added as she dug in her small string purse for the key to the medicine chest. "HURRY!"

He nodded and took the key, taking off like a shot without asking any questions, sprinting like a deer and dodging people on the street. Making it to the door in seconds, he let himself in, unlocked the cabinet, quickly read bottle labels until he found the right one, and took off again.

Skidding to a stop, he thrust the bottle in Michaela's slightly shaking hands. Feverishly, she opened it and inserted a small wooden tongue depressor she had retrieved from her ever-present medical bag, before turning to her patient. Encouraging Maude to open her mouth, Michaela skillfully deposited the right amount of powder under the woman's tongue and then directed her to lie back on the floor, slipping a folded blanket under her head.

"Just try to relax and lie quietly, Maude," she soothed, silently praying they weren't too late.

Loren opened his mouth to protest, but the look Michaela shot him made him clamp his lips shut with a pout.

Sully looked on worriedly, holding one of Maude's hands in his, gently stroking the back with his thumb as he held his breath and hoped for the best. He glanced at Michaela and met her eyes, seeing her concern as she held on to Maude's other wrist and counted her pulse.

Thankfully, after a few tense minutes, Maude drew in a shaky breath as the pain mercifully began to ease.

"The pain is subsiding?" Michaela asked gently, still monitoring the woman's pulse.

Maude nodded gratefully, opening her eyes and managing a small smile at the doctor, and then turning her eyes to meet the anxious blue gaze of her rescuer. He smiled gently as he felt her squeeze his hand.

After another few minutes, she was able to sit up, drinking a few sips of water from a glass Michaela pressed into her hand.

Then the doctor took Maude's hand again and held her gaze seriously. "Maude, please...don't let yourself run low or run out of the powder. You must keep some with you at all times, do you understand?" she asked gently, relieved to receive a firm nod.

"I will, Dr. Mike."

Loren, meanwhile, shaken that he had just come within moments of losing his spouse forever, had actually been standing back, silently watching the actions of everyone involved. Grudgingly, he admitted to himself that _he_ was probably the main cause of his wife's anxiety. His former son-in-law had just helped save Maude's life. The 'woman' doctor was a good one and knew what she was doing. He hated to admit it, but he knew it was high time he let bygones be bygones and change some preconceived notions...mend some fences. The trouble was...the word 'sorry' had always been the hardest thing for Loren to say – to _anyone_. Normally he would rather bite nails than admit he was wrong.

As Dr. Mike and Sully helped Maude to stand up from the floor, Loren moved forward and gently, politely, brushed Michaela aside. Grasping his wife's elbow, he helped her stand, smiling into her eyes to let her know how grateful he was that she was still with them, even leaning in to press a soft kiss to her cheek in a rare show of affection. Then gritting his teeth, he turned to meet the eyes of the man who had once been his son-in-law – and his enemy.

For a moment there was tense silence as Loren fought with the old anger and prejudice. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat, murmuring, "Thanks...Sully...for whatcha did. You helped save Maude's life..."

Taking the initiative, Maude moved from between them, as she, Michaela, and the onlookers retreated to the other side of the store to give the men a little privacy.

"Weren't nothin', Loren. I...I care about Maude," Sully replied softly and with a tiny shrug.

Loren studied the younger man's eyes and nodded slowly. "You...you wrecked all the plans I had for Abigail..." he began, pausing when he saw Sully begin to react. Loren quickly put up a hand. "They were _my_ plans. I come to see that after a time. But...I was just too proud...I couldn't tell her," he added softly, his eyes beginning to burn with tears of regret for the wasted years.

Sully relaxed a bit, hoping that this was the change of heart he had wished and prayed for. Choosing his words carefully, he responded softly, "She never stopped lovin' you."

Loren brightened, searching Sully's eyes again. "Even after I disowned her?"

Sully blinked a few times, the subject also hard for him. Remembering the nights his wife had lain crying in his arms telling him she missed the closeness between her and her pa, he murmured, "She knew you loved her."

Loren clamped quivering lips together, wishing he could see his daughter just one more time, to tell her how much he had loved her. In Sully's eyes, he saw a mirror of the heartache...but something else. A healing had happened inside the younger man. Loren could see it, and he knew it was time to receive his own healing. He reached out a tentative hand and clasped Sully's shoulder. "And I knew...she loved _you,_" he whispered.

Sully clamped his own lips at that, reaching up to clasp Loren's arm.

"Abigail's gone, buried...and so is the hatchet," Loren vowed with a nod of finality, allowing Sully to see in his eyes that he meant the words.

Then stepping back into his usual 'grouchy' persona, he admonished, "Now, git on over there and help Dr. Mike with her shoppin' so she don't have a faint." The words were his way of telling Sully that he saw and even approved of a possible pairing of his former son-in-law with the lovely doctor.

Sully chuckled softly and moved off to obey orders.


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER 29

Daniel stood in the doorway of the clinic, his hand poised to knock as he paused to watch Michaela on her knees scrubbing the floor.

"Dr. Mike! Here, let me do that!" He fussed, hurrying over to her and bending to pull her to her feet. "You're just gettin' over the grippe...you oughtta be takin' it easy."

She smiled and swiped at her disheveled hair with the back of one soapy hand, leaving a puff of suds on her forehead. "Heavens, I can't believe how dirty this place got, and so quickly. I _must_ get it back in shape, I could have patients..."

Daniel smiled and removed his jacket, tossing it onto a chair, and then he took the sponge from her hand. "You just tell me what needs doin' and I'll help ya." At her somewhat surprised look, he added with a charming smile, "Can't have the town's only doc havin' a relapse of the fever, can we?"

"I'm fine..." She shook her head in protest, although actually glad for the offer of help.

"Yep. And I aim to see ya _stay_ that way," he interjected, taking her hand and trying to get her to sit in a nearby chair. He hunkered down and began scrubbing the floor as she had been doing.

Instead of sitting, however, Michaela moved over to the medicine cabinet, noting the key still in the door from earlier when Sully had made his mad dash to bring Maude the desperately needed powder. Remembering the scene afterwards, the four of them – she, Sully, Loren, and Maude – talking quite amicably, she slipped the key in her pocket with a satisfied smile.

As she turned around, intending to cross to her desk, she glanced down at Daniel only to see him pausing in his actions to stare at her, a playful smile on his face.

She raised an eyebrow and stared back, which only made him chuckle. Curious, she turned toward him, crossing her arms on her chest. "Might I ask what the joke is?"

He shook his head and rose from his knees, stepping close. Gazing down at her as she gazed up at him, he grinned and reached to wipe away the puff of suds she had left there moments ago. Bringing his hand down to show her, she chuckled and self-consciously reached up to give the area several unneeded swipes, murmuring, "Thank you."

He nodded with a mumbled, "You're welcome..." as he continued to stare down at her, thinking she was one of the most beautiful women he'd ever seen. Unable to resist, he raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, on the verge of throwing caution to the wind and blurting out his feelings.

Daniel's show of affection, however, made Michaela uncomfortable. True, he was a handsome man, well mannered, gentle, and kind – but she thought of him merely as a friend, nothing more. Her heart yearned for Sully, even more now that he was back in her life again and had spent considerable time making sure she recovered from her bout with the influenza. The maddening thing was that she couldn't be absolutely sure of his feelings. What if he merely thought of her as a good friend...his best friend? What if he felt an obligation to her for the times she had saved his life? _Perhaps he only feels a tie to me because of my part in helping him separate himself from a situation he found intolerable. But...he kissed me out there on the desert the day he saved my life. He kissed me, passionately, that night on the road to Bowie...he even kissed me the first night he came back...but then it was merely a brush of his lips on mine...could he be the type of man that gets carried away with a physical attraction though his heart is not engaged? Could those displays of affection have merely been reaction to undue stress? _

It would be so much easier if she could fall in love with _this_ man, a man who seemed uncomplicated, and easy to read. She enjoyed being with Daniel, playing chess with him, laughing at his anecdotes...but, his presence didn't give her that certain tingle, that surge of awareness that she had only experienced with _one_ man...that feeling that made her want _more _of him, made her crave his attention – even if that attention was merely his electric blue gaze from across the room.

Sighing, she cleared her throat softly and backed away from Daniel's touch, turning toward the desk as she murmured, "Oh my, this desk, it will take me a full day to straighten it..."

Clamping his lips at her silent signal to back off, Daniel dropped his head and sighed softly before hunkering down again to continue his work.

Neither one had seen the figure watching through the window - the figure that had moved on quickly _before_ Michaela turned toward the desk.

OOOOOOO

Sully stood next to the kitchen door of the boarding house, head turned and glaring toward the window of the clinic. He hadn't counted on this complication.

Daniel! After all these years, his one time best friend returned to his life – and now Sully wished he was anywhere but there.

The two had been friends since the age of ten, both orphans, eking out an existence on the docks of New York. They quickly became inseparable, closer than brothers, and the one person each could count on when the world turned cold and dangerous. More times than Sully could remember, they had fought their way out of scrapes and danger, standing back to back against all comers. For eighteen years until Daniel left for parts unknown, they had truly trusted each other with their lives.

When they had first arrived in Colorado Springs determined to strike it rich on Pike's Peak, they wandered together into Bray's Mercantile to load up on supplies – and immediately fell for Abigail Bray's youthful innocence and charm. Sully could still see her placing bags of flour on a shelf, and turning to see who had entered the store. Both men stopped dead in their tracks, nearly colliding with each other as they gazed at the beautiful young woman. Having been on the road, stopping in small town after small town, they hadn't seen a young, single female for months. Abigail Bray, with her long wavy black hair and big brown eyes, was the stuff of dreams.

Both young men were immediately smitten, but from the start, Abigail only had eyes for Sully. It was the beginning of the breech that would eventually part the two long time friends.

And now once again, the two men found themselves competing for the affections of a beautiful woman. Sully couldn't help but wonder, however, if _this time_ the combination of Daniel's charm and money would tip the scales too far in his favor. The revelations he had received during his vision quest had unfortunately begun to evaporate from his memory.

At that moment, the door to Charlotte's kitchen opened and Brian ran out, nearly crashing into the man he considered his hero. Before Sully had suddenly left town two years prior, he had gotten in the habit of taking Brian fishing or hunting, teaching him things all little boys should know – things Charlotte couldn't. Sully had felt sorry for the fatherless little boy. Consequently, little Brian had been thrilled when Sully returned to town and was always excited to see him.

"Sully! Whatcha doin'?" Brian asked innocently, looking up into the man's face with his adorable crooked grin.

"Just restin', Brian," Sully murmured, looking toward the door as Charlotte neared.

"C'mon in, Sully," she offered, opening the door wide in welcome as she wiped her hands on a towel.

He pushed away from the wall and wandered inside. Noticing the woodpile next to the stove was low; he automatically crossed to the back door and brought in an armload of firewood, then another, making himself useful. Charlotte couldn't help but notice his frequent glances at the closed door to the dining room, and the brooding look on his handsome features.

"Brian, run along over to the telegraph office and see if I got any mail," Charlotte instructed her youngest. Glad for the important assignment, Brian skipped with glee to the door and exited.

When the door closed, Charlotte watched her visitor grasp a chair and turn it around, straddling it, crossing his arms over the raised back. His chin soon rested on his arms and he let out a brooding sigh, his blue gaze unconsciously aimed at the door again as he wished he could see through the multiple wooden surfaces.

"Wanna talk about it?" Charlotte asked softly, gently rolling dough for a pie.

Sully turned his head and met his friend's gaze.

"Nothin' ta talk about," he replied stubbornly.

She smiled and shook her head with a soft chuckle. "Still the same ain't ya," she stated knowingly. "Man of few words. Ain't you learned yet that sometimes words are _needed_?"

He shrugged moodily and looked away. "Words ain't gonna help."

"Oh, I don't know...you tell her how ya feel about her yet?"

He met her eyes again, on the verge of denying any such 'feelings' for the person they both knew she meant, but the straightforward look on his friend's face made him change his mind. He swallowed and ground his teeth together, picturing the scene he just witnessed, Daniel and Michaela seemingly 'gazing' at each other.

"Sully...a woman needs ta hear such things," Charlotte pressed, placing both hands on the table and leaning toward her friend, urging him to listen. "It's good that ya've come back, nursed her back to health, been hangin' around..." she paused as he flashed her a look as if he was about to say she was dabbling in things that were none of her business. She ignored the blue warning flames and pressed on, "But if'n ya wanna be more than just her _best_ _friend_, you're gonna have ta tell her what ya feel in yer heart. Don't leave her wonderin'."

She could tell by the obstinate expression on his face that he was trying to let her words bounce off and not take them in. _Men! Why are they always so stubborn?_

"I'm just sayin'...you wait too long, she's liable to find a new best friend," she warned ominously, choosing not to tell him of her long conversation with Daniel when the man admitted he had fallen hopelessly in love with the lady doctor.

Over the years, Charlotte had seen more than one woman fall into the arms of a charming man while on the rebound from another, and she'd hate to see Dr. Mike take up with Daniel when she so clearly belonged with Sully... Dr. Mike's fiancé had only been dead a few months, and Charlotte knew the doctor wasn't the fickle kind of woman who would fall that easily for the first handsome man who would console her. She just hoped Sully's stubborn pride – and Dr. Mike's stubbornness - wouldn't wreck their chance at happiness.

OOOOOOO

"Sully!" Brian and Colleen called happily as he appeared in the doorway that evening.

Heeding Charlotte's urging, Sully had joined the family and boarders for dinner in the dimly lit dining room, though arriving late and making his 'entrance' after they had already begun eating. Matthew quickly grabbed his own plate and utensils and slid into another chair, leaving the seat on the left adjacent to his mother at the head, for their long absent friend. It was the spot that used to be his.

"Been a while since you ate with us, Sully," Colleen gushed, flinging a lock of blonde hair back over her shoulder, her brown eyes twinkling, as she harbored a secret schoolgirl crush for the incredibly handsome ex-miner. Sully and Abby had, of course, ate every meal with them when they had lived at the boarding house, and the young girl had missed their company after they had moved into their own home. Then mere months later Abby died – and Sully was gone. The girl was thrilled he had returned.

"Yeah. Good to be back...thanks for invitin' me, Charlotte," he answered, lowering himself into the vacant chair, which happened to be directly across from Michaela, who gave him a careful smile. Daniel, unfortunately, occupied the seat directly to Michaela's right.

"You're welcome _anytime_, Sully, you know that. Ya don't need no invite," Charlotte returned with a friendly smile, reaching forward to cut a slice of ham from the platter in the center, and scooping it onto his plate.

"Whatcha been doin' all day, Sully?" Matthew asked for conversation's sake, since everyone else at the table had gone silent. Prior to Sully's arrival, everyone had been talking animatedly about their day, about the town well on its way to recovering after the epidemic, and Daniel had just declared that he was thinking of staying and building himself a home on the outskirts of town.

Michaela had listened to his announcement politely, hoping that the looks the man was shooting her way did not mean more than what they seemed on the surface.

She was in a bit of a quandary, however, because she very much enjoyed Daniel's company. He had stayed with her all day, helping her get the clinic room and its adjacent recovery room clean from top to bottom. He had entertained her with stories of his and Sully's childhood and many years together, which was something she always enjoyed hearing, and had asked her opinion on a myriad of subjects.

This particular habit of his always made Michaela feel warm in a way that was hard to describe. No man in her life, save her father, had valued her opinion the way Daniel did...well, except _Sully. _But Sully was an enigma, and very hard to pin down. Daniel seemed to lay all his cards on the table, in plain sight for all to see. She never knew from day to day if she would see Sully or not – or indeed, if he was truly back to 'stay.' He still addressed her as 'Dr. Mike' and from what he had told her about his time with his Indian friends, she could tell he would be perfectly happy to go back and live with _them._

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what he was thinking, and watching as he took a large bite of his dinner and reached for his glass to wash it down, glancing down the silent table at Dorothy and several unknown temporary boarders. "Um, been workin' on my homestead," he answered Matthew's question, his head tilted down, but eyes trained on Michaela's face as he fleeting pondered why she seemed to be acting a bit uncomfortable. He wondered what he had interrupted, as his eyes darted back and forth between Daniel and Michaela.

Daniel cleared his throat and wiped his mouth on a napkin. "Workin' on the homestead, huh, Sully? Thinkin' of stayin' around for awhile?" he asked, his voice projecting a tiny shred of sarcasm.

Sully met his eyes and shifted his gaze to meet Michaela's, who was now looking at him in rapt attention.

"Yep." His mouth turned up in a half dimpled grin as he correctly read the relief and – dare he interpret – _joy_ in Michaela's eyes.

"Whadya gonna do for a livin'? Go back to minin'?" Daniel asked, stabbing a large bite of his dinner and shoving it in his mouth.

Sully took another bite also, noticing Michaela was merely picking at her food. If he didn't know better, he could swear she was holding her breath. _What's she thinkin'?_

"Nope," he answered his opponent. "Got some plans I'm workin' on," he added a bit mysteriously, glancing sideways at Charlotte and noticing the barely concealed smile as she chewed her food.

Charlotte was enjoying the tête-à-tête between the two men, knowing that below their polite questions and answers, a fierce competition was already in the works. She just wondered which of the knights in shining armor would win the hand of the lady fair.

The rest of the evening passed in easy companionship, well, at least on the surface, as the kids, especially Brian, entertained the adults with silly antics.

The two men played it smooth with each other, each one sweetly attentive to a flattered, but slightly puzzled Michaela.

Something told her there was much more going on between Sully and Daniel than met the eye – much more than simply trying to get her undivided attention. She debated whether to ask Charlotte about it – or maybe Maude – or to let them work it out between themselves. Since it wasn't in her nature to just let things be, she determined silently that somehow she would get to the bottom of it.

In the meantime, however, she decided to just sit back and enjoy the ride.


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER 30

"More coffee, Dr. Mike?" Grace offered, holding a coffee pot poised over Michaela's cup, her other hand clutching the edges of a shawl together over her chest.

"Yes, thank you, Grace," Michaela murmured with a soft smile. Tugging her own shawl closer, she added, "Grace...do you close your café in the winter?"

The woman shrugged and offered her cheery grin. "Nope. Just wait for a warmer day here and there, and try to be open as often as I can 'til spring."

"That's a shame. I wish there were a building you could use..." Michaela mused, taking a sip from her cup.

"You know...I been thinkin' 'bout that," Charlotte offered as she sat huddled in her wrap, the late October wind quite chilly.

Michaela, Grace, and Dorothy turned to regard her with interest. "Business' been real slow, for months. I done rented out two rooms to Dr. Mike here for her clinic, and a room for Dorothy to run the Gazette..." she paused, glancing between the expectant faces. "You know that room on the end 'a my buildin', the door's by the stairs? I ain't rented that room in six months. The only time it's been used lately was for the epidemic."

Grace, her large dark eyes nearly popping out of her head, eased herself down into the open chair. "Yeah..."

"Well, how 'bout I rent ya that room, and the one behind it, for a small cut 'a your profits...say...five percent. It's got a small back porch on that second room, you could use that as an outdoor kitchen in the summer," Charlotte added, warming to the idea. "This way, I'd be makin' a little money, and you and your customers'd have a place to get outta the cold."

Grace blinked, her mouth open. "You...you mean this? I can really use it?" Dorothy and Michaela exchanged grins at their friend's surprise.

Charlotte laughed. "I really mean it, Grace. I'll talk ta Sully. Between him and Robert E., and Daniel, they can have you up and goin' in no time."

Grace, by now her large beautiful eyes filling with shocked, grateful tears, let out a small chuckle, and leaned to give her friend a tight squeeze. Jumping to her feet, she gushed over her shoulder, "I gotta go tell Robert E!" as she scurried off toward the livery.

Michaela smiled lovingly at her friend, reaching over to clasp Charlotte's hand. "That was very kind of you, Charlotte."

Charlotte blew it off with characteristic humility. "Nah, just good business. Been losin' money on those rooms," she argued with a jolly, teasing twinkle in her eye.

The ladies chuckled together, huddling in their shawls and wishing the new Café was already open, or that they had taken their coffee in the kitchen of the boarding house.

Thinking of Charlotte's earlier comment, Dorothy eyed her physician friend with a twinkle of her own. "So Michaela...how are you enjoyin' the attentions of two such handsome gentlemen as Sully and Daniel?"

Michaela caught her bottom lip between her teeth as images from the previous week flashed by like a picture album in her mind...

Sully shyly asking her if she would like to take a walk with him, then strolling together down the street, over the bridge, and across the meadow to a stream on the far side. It was chilly, but they sat together on a large rock in the sun, pressed side by side for warmth, and talked comfortably for several hours. When he left her at the door to the clinic, he very gallantly raised her hand to his lips and kissed it as his eyes met and held hers. Then he turned and walked toward the mercantile, leaving her standing and gazing after him, her hand tingling.

That evening, Daniel, dressed in his best clothes, escorted her to Grace's café for supper. He had arranged something special with Grace for their private meal, served at the table in the corner near the tree. The café owner had risen to the occasion with her famous Lapin Etoufee - rabbit smothered in a tangy tomato-based sauce. Michaela found the food quite spicy, which it would be since it was a Cajun recipe, but the company quite charming and she enjoyed the entire evening. Daniel regaled her with plans for his house, and for a possible business venture. After lingering over pie and coffee, and being literally the last customers there, Daniel walked Michaela back to her room at the boarding house, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his lips for a lingering kiss. She had closed the door and turned to lean against it, her mind a whirl of conflicting emotions.

The next morning was Sunday. Sully showed up at the boarding house early, dressed in dark blue cotton dungarees she had never seen before, and a cream colored shirt adorned with his medicine pouch and beads, and escorted her on his arm over to the church. Sitting together during the service, they endured the grins of others in the congregation, and smoldering looks from Daniel, who was seated behind them. Afterward, Sully helped her up into a buggy he borrowed from Robert E., and drove out to the country. Riding along, they fell into their customary easy camaraderie, talking about everything...and nothing, just enjoying the day and each other. He drove out to the largest of the hot springs and told her what he knew of the history of the area. Finally taking her back to town, he gallantly helped her down from the buggy and leaned to place a chaste kiss on her cheek before bidding her a soft goodbye and taking the vehicle back to the livery. Daniel had been conspicuously absent upon their return.

The next afternoon, as Michaela had no scheduled patients, the ex-gold miner persuaded her to ride with him, in the same borrowed buggy, out to a parcel of land he was thinking of purchasing. Again he regaled her with plans of his large house, even showing her a drawing he had made, and asking her opinion of the design. He told her of his desire to build a hospital, having seen first hand during the epidemic the need for such a facility. They discussed it at length, Daniel listening quite intently to Michaela's point of view. She was, of course, very excited at the prospect, and quite animated in voicing her joy. More than once, the conversation lagged as Daniel sat gazing adoringly at her, and she held her breath, sure he would throw caution to the wind and declare his feelings. But...he did not, seeming to bite back the words as if sensing it was not the right time.

The next day, Michaela looked up from her desk as a knock sounded at the clinic door.

"Come in," she called, smiling as Sully opened the door and stuck his head inside.

He grinned back and came on in. "Hey Dr. Mike," he greeted softly, allowing his eyes to run over her petite form nearly hidden under the large white apron. He loved how the soft peach color of her blouse seemed to make her 'peaches and cream' complexion glow even lovelier, her copper locks even prettier.

"Hello Sully," she responded, her own eyes feasting on his choice of clothing that day, buckskin trousers, the blue striped shirt she had grown to love because it accentuated his eyes, and a very attractive buckskin jacket with fringe and beadwork. He was wearing his customary necklace and medicine bag around his neck.

"Ya busy?" he asked with a hopeful rise of his eyebrows.

"Not particularly. Just updating a few patient files...why?"

"Come outside...I got a surprise for ya," he urged.

"A surprise? What surprise?" she asked, not rising from her chair.

"Just trust me, and come look, okay?" he coaxed, holding out his hand for her.

She hesitated only a moment more, then rose and rounded the desk, bypassing his hand to reach for her shawl hanging on a hook by the door. He grinned mischievously and helped her put it around her shoulders, then opened the door again and escorted her out on the porch, one hand at her elbow.

There, standing side-by-side and tied to the hitching post, were two horses. One, wearing no saddle, was a beautiful brown and white 'paint' horse that he had obviously ridden. The other was saddled; a lovely chestnut mare with a dark mane and tail, white 'socks' on her legs, and a wide, white blaze down her face, resembling a lightning bolt.

"What's this?" she asked, confused, and turned to meet his eyes. He was watching her expression intently.

"She's _yours_," he declared softly.

Delighted with the look of surprised pleasure in her eyes, he eagerly continued, "Remember the mare you rode at the fort? Well...I mentioned to Cloud Dancin' about you takin' to a horse there that you named, 'Flash', and he grinned, and told me about this mare. The tribe calls her Mâsêhá'e Ononé'otse. It means Crazy Lady. But Snowbird calls her Ho'kâsé'há éše'he...which means _Flash in the Sky_." He paused as Michaela's eyes grew large and she stepped down off the porch toward the beautiful horse, which gave her a friendly nudge. "Snowbird gave her to me. She said the spirits said you were to have the horse. I couldn't say no...the Cheyenne believe its an insult to refuse a gift, especially when the person is givin' you somethin' they loved," he explained softly.

Speechless, Michaela moved down the horse's side, stroking her smooth coat. "She's beautiful, Sully. I..." she paused, her eyes widening again when she came face to face with the saddle, which had 'Dr. Mike' etched in the surface. Hand-tooled leather saddlebags hung near. Her eyes flashed to his again.

"Did you make these?" she asked softly.

He shrugged and nodded. "Yeah...well, with a little help from Robert E., but I did most 'a the work – especially your name. The saddle bags have a place for your medicine and your pills and...things," he added, almost like a shy little boy as he waited for her reaction.

"Oh Sully...I don't know what to say...I've never been given such wonderful gifts..." she whispered, her hand softly caressing the smooth leather as she gazed up at him. "Thank you." She stretched up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Just as he was going to turn his head and return the kiss, Daniel, Charlotte, Dorothy, and the kids all spilled out the door and gathered around the two, causing them to part self-consciously.

"Wow Sully!" "Did you give Dr. Mike this horse?" "You made that saddle?" "She's a beauty of a horse!" they cried at once.

"Sure," he answered with a grin, reaching over and fluffing Brian's hair.

Daniel, however, stood back in silence, watching the two people standing between the horses.

Uncomfortable with their sudden audience, Sully murmured, "Wanna go for a ride on her?" Then before she could answer, he was assisting her up into the saddle, which fit her perfectly, the stirrups already adjusted to fit her legs. Michaela leaned over the horse's neck and gave her a gentle hug. The horse snuffled softly, seeming to respond to her new owner's loving touch.

Sully swung up onto his horse's bare back and settled himself as he took up his reins.

"You know that big oak about a mile outta town? Race ya," he challenged, immediately urging his horse forward with a 'Yah!' Michaela said not a word, but grabbed her reins and Flash took off, as if already sensing her new owner's desire before she was given a command.

The others stepped off the porch, hollering encouragement as the riders disappeared around the end of the street.

Michaela was in heaven, once again flying on the back of a horse, her smooth copper hair billowing behind her, her grin overtaking her face. Sully was just up ahead, three or four links, but Flash barreled on and they were soon galloping neck and neck. Sully looked over and grinned at his riding companion, absolutely adoring the exhilaration on her beautiful face, made even better knowing he was the cause of it.

After a dozen yards, Michaela began to pull ahead with a delighted laugh, urging the mare faster. "You _are_ a Flash in the Sky! Come on girl! You can do it!"

The tree came into view, and Michaela leaned into the wind, Flash sailing along as if her hooves barely touched the road. She could hear Sully urging his mount faster, to no avail, and she let out a delighted giggle.

Then she was galloping past the tree, pulling back on the reins and turning the horse around in one smooth move to see Sully just then reaching the goal.

"I won! I won!" Michaela laughed, reminding them both of the many races at the fort - and the many times she had outraced him.

He pulled up next to her, both of them out of breath and laughing in pure enjoyment...

Michaela shook her head to bring herself back to the present, and Dorothy's question.

"Oh Dorothy...it's been the most amazing week...and the most confusing," she confided softly.

Charlotte watched her friend closely, seeing a myriad of emotions chasing each other across the canvas of her face. "I'd say both 'a those fellas are smitten with ya, Dr. Mike. But the question is...which one would ya pick?" she asked softly.

Michaela gazed into the eyes of both her friends, seeing both friendship and concern. She huffed a small sigh. "I truly don't know...and neither one has come out and voiced their feelings in so many words. Until then...well, a lady shouldn't make the first move...should she?" she asked with a wry grin.

Dorothy leaned forward with a twinkle. "But...which one of 'em do you _want_ to voice his feelin's? How does _Sully_ make ya feel when you're with _him_?" she added knowingly.

Michaela closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the longhaired, blue-eyed ex-cavalry man. "Oh Dorothy...since the day we met, I feel..._tingles_ every time he touches me. I feel so comfortable with him. It feels so...right. We can talk about _anything_ and understand each other...sometimes it almost seems as if he can read my mind...we care about the same things...and he...stirs something deep inside me," she added with a whisper.

Charlotte nodded, but after a beat, asked, "...So the question is...does _Daniel_?"

Michaela clamped her lips, her brow furrowing as she thought of the times she had been alone with the handsome ex-gold miner, the conversations they had shared, his plans for the new hospital, and how flattered she felt by his attention. She was definitely attracted to him. No man, except her father of course, had ever respected her views to the extent that Daniel seemed to. She cared for Daniel, she truly did, and he certainly didn't hide his feelings, short of actually voicing them. Envisioning their relationship moving forward seemed...logical, somehow. Yes...logical. _But then...why do I get this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach when I contemplate a future with him?_

Finally, with a hopeless sigh, she gave a sort of shrugging nod.

Her two friends gave one another a look, each secretly wishing she was facing such a problem.

"Well...I have a feelin' you'll have ta be makin' up your mind soon, Michaela. Just...be sure ta let your _heart_ lead ya," Dorothy advised, reaching across to lay a comforting hand on Michaela's as the three women lapsed quietly into thought.


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER 31

"I can't wait 'till Friday night! This is gonna be the funnest Hol'ween ever!" Brian gushed, straining to look around at the others in the boarding house's sitting room as his mother worked on pinning up the bottom of his devil costume. Colleen, Matthew, Michaela, and Dorothy went about their business.

"Hold still, young man, or I'll be pinnin' this costume to your leg," Charlotte fussed softly, flashing a smile at him when he leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek.

"Thanks for makin' my costume, Ma. It's gonna be the scariest yet, I jus' know it!"

"You're welcome, child," she murmured through the pins in her mouth as she finished her preparations. "Alright, let's getcha outta this so's I can sew this hem."

Michaela looked up from reading a medical journal, smiling fondly at mother and son.

"What're _you_ goin' as, Dr. Mike?" Colleen asked as she worked at letting the hem out of the costume she had worn the previous year.

"Um...I don't know..." Michaela mused, mentally inventorying her wardrobe. "I have a black dress...and some black lace I could use as a headpiece...I may go as a witch," she grinned, warming up to the challenge.

"You got that _red_ dress...we could paint ya up, put on a fake 'beauty mark', and you could go as a high falutin' lady of the evenin'," Charlotte teased.

Michaela raised an eyebrow at her. "Indeed." The others in the room chuckled.

"Do ya think Sully'll go?" Colleen asked softly, looking down quickly as her mother gave her the 'eye'.

"I'm not certain Colleen...he hasn't mentioned it," Michaela answered thoughtfully, wondering if indeed he would.

"It's the best party all year," Matthew stated, pausing in his chore of sharpening one of his mother's kitchen knives to stare dreamily forward for a few moments.

"You gonna ask _Ingrid_ ta go with ya?" Colleen teased, referring, of course, to the pretty blonde immigrant girl everyone in town knew Matthew was sweet on.

"Matthew's got a girlfriend! Matthew's got a girlfriend!" Brian recited, squealing and ducking as his older brother grabbed a small pillow off their old settee and slung it at him.

"_Boys_," their mother reprimanded, causing them both to settle down, Matthew play-glaring at the younger boy as Brian giggled.

"How about Daniel?" Dorothy asked pointedly, also receiving a raised eyebrow from Michaela.

"He hasn't mentioned it, either."

"Mentioned what?" a smooth masculine voice asked. All eyes turned toward the door of the room as the aforementioned entered.

Michaela blushed at being caught talking about him. "We were discussing the Halloween party this Friday night and wondered if you planned to attend," she informed him politely.

"I guess I will...if _you're_ goin'," he added softly.

Michaela reddened even more when all eyes then turned to her to see her reaction. She cleared her throat and nodded. "I'm planning on it."

"Good," he grinned his most charming smile, sitting back in the chair he had lowered himself into and nodding as if making some sort of plan.

Dorothy and Charlotte exchanged glances and raised eyebrows, but said nothing.

OOOOOOO

"Hold that end, Sully?" Robert E. requested as he worked on fireproofing the wall that would be behind the stove, renovating the room in the boarding house into the kitchen for his wife's new indoor café.

"Got it," Sully returned, watching his friend's actions for a moment before standing back with a soft sigh.

Robert E. glanced at his friend, noting the melancholy expression. "You goin' ta the Hal'ween dance?"

Sully drew his lip up in somewhat of a pout, shaking his head. "Nah...ain't much for dancin'."

Pausing with hammer poised, his friend studied him for a moment. "Somethin' on yo' mind, Sully?" he asked, although having a pretty good idea what.

Sully shrugged and leaned to pick up a metal sheet, turning it in his hands.

"Wouldn't be that lady doc, now would it?" the burley blacksmith teased, his mustached mouth turning up in an amused grin.

Sully shot him a look, words unnecessary.

"Courtin' goin' okay?" the other man asked as he hunkered down to hammer another sheet of metal in place.

Sully shrugged again. "I don't know...she lets me take her around...and she liked the horse and saddle I gave her...but," he paused, sighing in frustration. "She's still lettin' _Daniel_ court her, too."

Robert E. finished nailing that piece in place and paused to stand and stretch his legs, eyeing his friend. "You tell her how ya feel about her?"

Sully squirmed a little, the subject a sore one, as Charlotte had been hounding him about it, also. "She...she oughtta _know_ how I feel," he argued. "I mean...I came _back_...I stayed with her and took care of her when she was sick..." he protested, causing his friend's eyes to widen.

Robert E. placed his hands on his hips and stared at his friend.

"You ain't _tol'_ 'er yet? How's she supposed ta know wha'cher _feelin'_? She can't read yo mind."

Sully shrugged again, frustrated at himself and the situation in general. He hadn't counted on any of this when he made the decision to come back. He thought he would just show up and she would fall into his arms and...that would be that. What about all the stuff they had said during their times together at the fort? _Yeah, but what about all the stuff that __**wasn't**__ said..._his conscience reminded him. She hadn't actually _chosen_ him over the captain...the captain was just... _taken out of the picture. _

Now, he glanced up into his friend's piercing stare. Swallowing, he admitted softly, "What if...I mean...Daniel, he's got all that money now...he could...give her _stability_." He cringed as he said the last word, remembering how he had felt when she said it to him about the captain.

Robert E. looked away and shook his head, bringing a hand up to scratch his forehead. "Well, ya ain't never gonna _know_ who she'll choose if'n ya don't give her a _chance_. All's I know is, it'd be a _shame_ ta let yer happiness get _robbed_ from ya just cause yer _scared_!"

Their gazes locked as Robert E. silently allowed his words to sink in, his silence rife with frustration at his friend's foolishness, before turning back to his work.

Sully pressed his lips together and looked away, knowing his friends – Robert E. _and_ Charlotte - were right.

OOOOOOO

The night of the Halloween party arrived and the town was abuzz with excitement. Folks arrived for the festivities and Grace's delicious apple cider began to flow, the band played great, and ghouls and goblins roamed, as well as a headless horseman, gypsies, a Frankenstein, vampires, witches, ghosts, and pirates. Children bobbed for apples, and competed in contests of skill, while the adults indulged in lots of dancing.

Brian's red devil costume had turned out great. Colleen went as Florence Nightingale, and Charlotte as Little Red Riding Hood. Dorothy was a redheaded witch. Matthew dressed up as a sheriff, and managed to shyly ask the beautiful Ingrid if he could accompany her.

Michaela agreed to allow her friends to dress her up as the famous lady gambler Lottie Deno, who was currently gaining notoriety and legend in the frontier town of Fort Griffin, Texas. The Denver Post had run more than one story on the flamboyant female.

In her portrayal, Michaela wore her bright red, low cut, off-the-shoulder dress, the only sleeves a bit of puffed fabric at the edges of her shoulders, and complete with hooped skirt and bustle. Charlotte and Dorothy fixed her hair in a magnificent arrangement on top of her head, with red ribbons and combs, allowing the tresses to hang down in long thick spirals. With her eyes and lips painted fetchingly, a becoming amount of rouge coloring her face, and a beauty mark placed strategically on her cheek, she looked absolutely ravishing...and a trifle naughty.

Staring at herself in the mirror, she nearly balked at attending the party dressed such a way, but her friends finally persuaded her. Michaela had never felt so completely alluring in her life and she eventually decided to go all out and just enjoy playing a part that was the total antithesis of her own personality.

The night seemed alive with anticipation...as if _anything_ could happen.

Finally ready, Charlotte opened Michaela's door and stood back for the captivating lady to pass through, each woman quickly putting final touches to the other's costumes as they giggled like schoolgirls.

The door directly across the hall from hers opened and the ladies paused as Daniel stepped out looking very dapper. Dressed up like a riverboat gambler, he wore a black suit with a long-tailed cutaway coat, maroon vest complete with silver watch chain, white shirt, black string tie, black boots, and capping it off was a black hat atop his wavy blond hair.

"Daniel...you're looking quite...dashing," Michaela complimented softly, her eyebrows rising in appreciation as she scanned his outfit.

"Thank you..." he paused as his eyes greedily swept over her figure, quite evident in the form fitting bodice of the dress.

She held her hand out teasingly for him to kiss. "For the evening, the name is Lottie Deno," she purred in a throaty voice. A bit shocked, he recovered quickly and took her hand in his, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to its back, before straightening and holding out his elbow for her to grasp.

"Well...pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss..._Deno_. Looks like I picked the right costume," he added with a jaunty wink, omitting that he had bribed Brian to find out what Dr. Mike had chosen. He wondered just how much into the 'part' Michaela would venture.

Michaela actually giggled, totally caught up in the part she was playing, her smile lighting up her face and nearly mesmerizing the poor man as she obligingly took his arm and strolled with him down the hall, her wide skirt swishing against his legs.

Charlotte threw a look at Dorothy, who was grinning from ear to ear. "My, my. I have a feelin' this is gonna be _some_ night."

OOOOOOO

Michaela seated herself on a bench at the side of the dance floor, grateful for the heat generated by the exertion of dancing – although the night was blessedly a warmer one.

Colleen sat next to her, just at that in-between age, wanting to be a 'woman' and be asked to dance, but too young for anyone her age to actually do so. The girl gazed at the lady doctor. Despite the fact that she loved her own mother tremendously, Colleen couldn't help but be in awe of Dr. Mike's beauty and grace and secretly wished she could be just like her – especially to be able to attract the loving attentions of the two most handsome men in the whole territory!

The party had been going on for about thirty minutes and Michaela had already danced with Daniel once, then the Reverend, then Jake, then a man she didn't know who stepped on her toes repeatedly. She decided to take a break. All the while, she was surreptitiously looking for Sully and extremely disappointed that he didn't seem to be in attendance. She hadn't seen him in several days, which was unusual, to say the least.

Daniel came near, staring at her adoringly. Noticing she was looking like she could be thirsty, he offered, "_Lottie_...would you like some cider?"

Just as she opened her mouth to say yes, Sully suddenly appeared next to his friend, two cups of cider in his hand. He didn't stop, but sailed by Daniel and straight to Michaela.

She looked up at him as she took one cup, smiling in surprise, and murmured, "Thank you, Sully," as her eyes drank in his appearance. He had a three-day growth of whiskers, and he was wearing his _Byron Sullivan_ cowboy clothes, from the boots to the hat. This time, however, he left his hair down, but he had trimmed it to just touching his shoulders.

"You're welcome," he murmured, his eyes drinking in her appearance, especially the daring décolletage of her dress. "Ya look great, Dr. Mike," he added softly, his too rare, dimpled smile lighting up his face. His eyes bored into hers so intensely, Michaela felt her heart flip.

"For tonight, her name's _Lottie Deno_," Daniel informed him from behind.

Sully turned and met his friend's eyes. "That right?"

Daniel smiled knowingly and dipped his head in a slight nod. Then he stuck his hand out for Sully to shake. Sully dropped his eyes to the hand, back to Daniel's face, and then reached to take the hand in his for a quick greeting.

"Good ta see ya," Daniel offered, his tone measured.

"Same here," Sully replied, equally measured.

Michaela looked on, sipping her cider, her eyes going from one man to the other as they both turned to just gaze at her. She smiled at Daniel, then met Sully's eyes and smiled at him, albeit a trifle uncertainly.

Just then the band, which had been taking a break, tuned up and began another song. Wasting no time, Daniel stepped forward and held out his hand. "May I have the honor?" he asked formally. Michaela glanced at Sully, but received only a blank, controlled look in return, so she smiled up into Daniel's face, admitting to herself that he looked particularly handsome with the black clothes and the blonde hair. "You may," she murmured, placing her hand in his and rising.

Sully backed out of their way and just watched as his best friend led the woman he loved out onto the floor and immediately took her into his arms. The dance had them swinging around together, touching hands and then away and back again, then Daniel would take her in his arms and they would glide around the dance floor, her red skirt swishing gaily. Michaela laughed and grinned up at Daniel, truly having a wonderful time. He, totally smitten, gazed down into her eyes enraptured, his grin huge, and an occasional happy laugh escaping his lips. They were doing so well that one by one the other couples began to stop and back up to let the outstanding pair have room.

Sully stood rooted to the spot, unable to take his eyes from the couple. _The couple_...that thought made him feel sick to his stomach and his face reflected the physical sensation. He wanted to look away, but time and again his eyes were drawn to them, watching Michaela in all her beauty and glory, then watching Daniel excelling in charm and ability. It made Sully feel decidedly devoid of both, and he silently cursed his own bowed legs and what he considered two 'left feet'.

Finally, the song wound down, the other couples clapping encouragement as Daniel and Michaela performed. Her face was pink with exertion, which made her even more beautiful – everyone there stood in awe of her loveliness. As the song came to an end, Daniel planted his feet and raised his hand high, holding lightly to hers as he encouraged her to twirl round and round, the largeness of her swirling skirt making a beautiful picture against the stark black of his suit. On her last twirl, feeling much like Cinderella at the ball, Michaela ended in a curtsy, one arm spread wide as she bowed to her partner. Then from her bowed position, she raised her head and met his eyes in a somewhat provocative manner, although she was completely unaware of how she appeared to Daniel, and all other males for that matter. She merely felt as if she were experiencing a dream come to life, as if none of it were real.

The watchers erupted in a round of applause for the couple as Jake stepped onto the bandstand and called out, "Well folks, if we had a prize for the best dancin' couple, I'd say that'd be Dr. Mike and Daniel, hands down. Let's give it up for 'em!" which resulted in yet another round of enthusiastic applause. Daniel helped her to her feet with aplomb, as she blushed becomingly, never one to be comfortable as the center of attention.

Then as Jake began to announce whom the judges had picked as the winners of the costume contest, Daniel suddenly could wait no longer.

Taking Michaela by the hand, he leaned down and murmured, "Dr. Mike...come with me a minute," and before she could answer, began tugging her away from the crowd...


	32. Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32

Michaela was breathless when Daniel finally stopped. He had tugged her all the way through the alleyway to the front of the telegraph office, where he let go of her hand and placed both of his on her arms, gently pushing her against the wall.

"Oh Daniel, that was so much fun..." she panted.

"You were wonderful out there..."

"_You _were wonderful! I've never enjoyed dancing and parties before, but with you..." she paused, gazing up at him shyly, although a little uncomfortable now that they were alone. "I've never enjoyed the simple pleasures of _living_ with anyone as I do with you..." she stopped as soon as the words were out of her mouth, horse rides and chess games during a monsoon rain coming to mind, making her continue truthfully, "Except for Sully."

He forged ahead boldly. "Do you love him?"

"Daniel!" she whispered, shocked that he asked the question straight out.

He pressed on, "Has he told ya he loves ya? Has he asked for yer hand?"

"Daniel, really..." she murmured, embarrassed and wishing with every fiber of her being that she could say yes.

Sully, who had followed them, stopped against the outside wall of the boarding house kitchen, in the shadows and out of sight, watching and listening. However, he had arrived seconds too late to hear Daniel's last question.

"Because Michaela, I love you, and I _am_ askin' for your hand," Daniel declared.

"Oh, Daniel..." she breathed, completely overwhelmed and totally confused.

"We can be partners, Michaela, in every sense of the word. In work at building the hospital...in love..._true_ partners. Do ya love _me_?" he pressed in a firm murmur.

She looked up into his eyes, glinting in the light of the full moon, as she desperately searched her heart.

Truthfully, she admitted, "There were moments when I thought it – moments I was sure of it...and moments when I wasn't sure of anything at all...such as this one," she added with a tiny grimace, realizing just how convoluted that sounded.

He swallowed nervously. That wasn't the answer he had hoped for. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, but he held back, unsure.

Instead, he took her hands in his and cradled them against his chest. "Take all the time ya need, to be sure. I ain't goin' anywhere."

Michaela swallowed dryly and nodded. Her heart yearned for Sully to say those words to her..._but what if he never did_? Her mother always said that a 'good match' was more enduring than 'love'. With Daniel, she would be content and want for nothing. She enjoyed his company; he was handsome, kind, generous, and helpful. He believed in her talents and vocation as a doctor and championed it. But...there was just something missing. That tingle...

Neither saw Sully slink away in the darkness, heading back to the celebration.

OOOOOO

Sully paced by Grace's cider table, twisting his hat in his hands, his gut clenching in agony over what he had witnessed. Charlotte's words and Robert E.'s admonishment played over and over in his mind. Had Michaela found a new 'best friend'? Had his fear made him wait too long? He ground his teeth together, wondering what they were doing. Maybe he should have stayed watching longer...maybe he should challenge Daniel...

Just then, he saw them coming back to the party. Daniel walked with confidence, Michaela's hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. She kept glancing up at him as they walked. He seemed happy...they both did. Sully's stomach fell to his boots. _She said yes._

As the couple rejoined the others, people flocked to compliment them on their wonderful dancing, Emily gushing that they looked just like a riverboat gambler and his lady, like they stepped right off a steamboat. Daniel grinned happily, his white teeth flashing in the night. Michaela smiled and thanked them, but with a little less animation.

Finally, Sully broke. Unable to stand the suspense, he elbowed his way to them. They both looked at him, startled at his expression, which was less than cordial, to say the least. He was seething.

Sully took Michaela by the arm and pulled her a few feet away.

Without preamble, he groused, "You gonna marry him?"

Michaela's mouth dropped open with a gasp. _This_, she had not expected. "I beg your pardon!" she managed to sputter.

"No beggin' necessary, just the _truth_," Sully sneered, his temper rising inch by inch.

Michaela's Irish temper also began to rise. She thought of the nights she had lain awake dreaming of this man...the hours she had spent daydreaming of him asking for her hand – much like Daniel had just done...the worry and care she had felt the months he was gone. Now, he was sneering rudely at her. In a flash, she realized he must have followed them!

"You were obviously eavesdropping," she accused, instead of answering his question.

He clamped his teeth, sending a daggered glance at Daniel, who was watching and listening intently. Everyone around them had stopped also, eyes wide, waiting to see what happened.

Uncaring of their audience, Sully looked back at her, repeating, "_Just_ the truth."

This was too much! Perhaps she didn't know him as well she thought she did. Perhaps he was just the kind of man who played with a woman's affections with no real commitment intended. Never ONCE had the man told her anything – _anything_ regarding how he felt about her. What was she supposed to do? To think? Unreasoning stubbornness rose within her chest like a bubbling hot spring. She tilted her head back and sent him a haughty glare.

"It's none of your business!"

Sully's face became stone. "That _right_?" he ground out, his hands curling into fists as he fought to control his rage. At that moment, he wanted to kill Daniel for swooping in and wrecking everything. His heart hammered as his blood coursed through his veins like a highballin' train.

"That's right!" Michaela flung back, although her conscience screamed otherwise. Her heart pounded just as hard, as her whole body quivered with nervous tension.

Daniel chose that moment to try and intervene. He stepped around Michaela, as if 'protecting' her, and reached a hand toward Sully. "Now Sully, hold on..." he began, totally unprepared for Sully's reaction.

Enraged, Sully knocked his hand away, sneering, "Get off me, Daniel!"

Daniel stood his ground. "This ain't the way ta settle this, Sully."

"Aw, whatta _you_ know?" Sully sneered, anger blurring his common sense. He was suffocating under a barrage of emotion.

"I know that you're makin' a jack a** outta yourself and ya outta calm down! I ain't gonna let ya talk ta Michaela in that tone of v—" his word was cut off as Sully flung his crushed hat to the side and raised both hands, shoving the other man back several feet.

"You ain't gonna _let_ me? You can't STOP me!" Sully sneered, hoping his opponent would take the bait.

Daniel was angry now, angrier than he had EVER been with Sully. They'd had scrapes before, got each other down on the ground before, but he'd never felt such all-out fury at him. Now, Daniel forgot everything around them and roared as he charged at his best friend, barreling into him and knocking him back several feet into a table, resulting in both crashing to the dirt.

A woman screamed as people scurried out of the way of the two men who immediately began wrestling, punching, and choking each other.

"Sully! Daniel! Stop this!" Michaela yelled, trying to reach and grab an arm to pull them apart, nearly getting clobbered in the process. The Reverend came running and pulled Michaela away just as a fist would have connected with her head.

The two men rolled, first Daniel on top, and then Sully hooked his leg over Daniel's head and flipped him, jumping on top and beginning to choke him, each one grunting and growling in fury. Before long, their clothing and hair was littered with dirt, leaves, and debris.

A crowd had gathered, people scurrying from all sides to watch the 'show'. Hank chuckled at the spectacle, laughingly taking bets regarding the winner. Loren stood shaking his head at his one-time son-in-law now making a 'dern fool' out of himself.

"Oh good Lord," Charlotte murmured as she and Dorothy reached Michaela's side and grasped her arms, keeping her from trying to intervene again.

Daniel got the upper hand and began to choke Sully, both deaf to Michaela's desperate attempts to reason with them. Sully bucked him off and straddled him, tearing Daniel's shirt as he dove for his neck, mindlessly raging as if he intended to finish the job.

"STOP THIS! YOU CALL THIS MAN YOUR BEST FRIEND?" Michaela shrieked in desperation.

For some unknown reason, _that_ penetrated the red hot burning rage and Sully let go, his eyes huge as he gazed down at his best friend on the ground beneath him. Daniel gazed back at Sully, just as dazed. Sully fell back, panting.

Each man was bloodied and disheveled, lips bleeding, and gasping for air.

Suddenly it was too much. Sully was _done_. He picked himself up, swiping at his lips with the back of one hand and casting a look at Michaela that she couldn't decipher. Anger? Shame? Hurt? Confusion? All four? He glanced down at Daniel, who hadn't moved, but was just staring up at them as he tried to understand what had sparked such a vicious row.

Sully shoved his way through the crowd, just wanting to get _away_. To make it to his homestead so he could sulk in peace. _She's made her choice. She yelled at ME to stop, not Daniel. What's the use?_ he fumed as he stalked away, angrily removing the vest of his 'costume' and feeling like an idiot for 'dressing up' and going to the party. For what? Just to watch her dance with another man? And not just _dance_, but flirt shamelessly with him. And not just another man – but DANIEL, his best friend now turned nemesis. He never wanted to lay eyes on the man again...and he knew he could never look Michaela in the eye after this.

Michaela watched him go, her mouth open in shock. Never had she seen such a display of anger and passion – of which _she_ had been the catalyst. Why was he so angry? He was angry at the thought of her marrying Daniel? Did that mean he _cared_? That he was jealous? WHY didn't he SAY so? Suddenly, all of the frustration and aggravation came rushing to the surface – that he had talked to her that way – that he had practically killed his best friend – and still no declaration of any feelings! With a frustrated huff, she shook off her friends' restraining hands and launched after him, determined to make him say what he felt about her if it was the last thing she did.

His long legs had already taken him farther away than she thought and she had to run to catch him.

"Sully!" she called. He kept going.

"Sully, wait!" He ignored her and forged ahead toward his horse.

She hurried, finally catching his arm and pulling him to a stop, forcing him to turn around.

"You're just leaving?" she demanded, breathless and incensed.

"There's nothin' to stay for," he returned stubbornly, clamping his lips together in a pout.

"Why did you even come _back_ here? Why didn't you stay with your Cheyenne friends?" she railed at him.

"I _told_ you."

"What was the _real_ reason?" she insisted, her eyes shooting angry sparks.

"What do YOU care?" he bellowed, still unreasonably seething.

"I CARE!" she yelled, her own anger rising exponentially.

"WELL IT DIDN'T LOOK LIKE IT BACK THERE AT THE DANCE!" he yelled, flinging an arm in the direction of the party, both of them so caught up in each other, they didn't realize they were the main attraction of everyone's attention.

Smoldering, seething, trying to gain control of her emotions, she gritted her teeth. "I asked you a question."

"Why did I come back?" he hedged, stalling.

"Yes, why!?" she burst forth, tears of frustration in her eyes.

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. "_Because!"_

She wasn't going to let him off. Somehow she would _make_ him say it!

"Because?" she demanded, clamping her own lips shut and glaring back at him. _Stubborn, stupid...man!_

Unable to get away from the pull of her eyes, he simply snapped. She wanted to hear him grovel? Okay. He'd give her what she wanted. Taking a big breath, he burst out, "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

She gasped and her eyes opened wide in shock, because he said the words as if he wished they weren't true.

He was past the point of reason or manners, and he took that opportunity to grasp her arms and haul her against his chest, his lips crashing onto hers almost violently. She resisted at first, but then began to soften as the tingles his touch always garnered began to consume her. She felt his tongue demanding entrance, which she granted, feeling it plunge deep inside as they both groaned in reaction. She met it with her own and their tongues danced wildly as the floodgates of passion suddenly burst wide open. The tang of blood from his split lips somehow fueled a wantonness within her, almost as if the 'Lottie' persona had somehow taken hold. Her hands rose of their own accord and began to rifle through his hair. She felt lightheaded. His arms wrapped around her torso and crushed her body to his, consuming her as if he were starving, drinking her in as if he were dying of thirst.

Hank came strolling by on his way back to the saloon, chuckling softly, "'Bout time!"

Suddenly, a shrill cry pierced the air.

"Stop! Thief! He stol' my money!" A shot rang out and people started to scream in fear and run from the vicinity of Grace's table.

Michaela and Sully broke apart with a start, Sully instantly turning to put her body protectively behind him. Wide-eyed with shock and still breathless with passion, they watched a man brandishing a weapon and running to a horse nearby. Sully didn't recognize him as anyone he knew, figuring he must have crashed the party.

"Stop him!" a voice screamed and several of the men pulled their side arms and began to shoot haphazardly at the man. He jumped on his horse and beat it out of town as the men gave chase, bullets hitting everything but their target.

"He ain't gettin' away with this! Who's ridin' with me?!" Hank bellowed as he holstered his gun and ran for his horse, which was tied at the saloon's hitching rail. Others jumped on their horses as well, kicking them into a gallop.

Without a second thought, his military training kicked in and Sully ran for his horse and jumped on 'pony express' style, joining the other men in the chase.

The women ran up to Michaela and surrounded her as she stood there breathless and quivering, hair disheveled, lips red and swollen from Sully's fierce kiss, face tingling from the scratchiness of his whiskers, one sleeve of her dress torn by the force of his passion...but feeling more blissfully happy than she ever had in her life.

They watched until the only thing left to view of the posse was dust in the cool night air.


	33. Chapter 33

**PART THREE: COURTING**

CHAPTER 33

"Robert E.!" Grace screamed in fear and shock as her husband slumped to the ground next to her table. In all of the commotion, no one had noticed the thief's bullet had connected.

"Land's sakes!" Loren yelled as he knelt next to the stricken blacksmith. "He's been shot! Dr. Mike!"

Michaela quickly pulled herself together and ran back to the gathering crowd, elbowing her way through to get to the man on the ground. "Please stand back," she requested as she quickly examined him, immediately noting the blood staining his jacket at his shoulder.

"He's been shot in the shoulder. Please, help me get him to my clinic," she added as she looked around for help. Daniel met her eyes and hesitated for a moment, still smarting from watching her and his best friend's passionate kiss in the middle of the street. But gritting his teeth, he knew the most important thing at the moment was helping a wounded man. He bent down and wrapped his arms around Robert E. from the back, Jake grasping his feet, and the two proceeded to carry the blacksmith to the back door of the boarding house and down the hall to the clinic door.

Michaela let them inside and quickly lit a lamp. "Put him on the table," she instructed. "And help me remove his jacket," she added as she readied instruments and things she would need.

Robert E., who had passed out from the ordeal, came to moaning in pain as they were peeling his jacket off his left arm.

"Jake, please bring the lamp closer," she requested, glancing at the barber as he made a face, but fulfilled her request. Michaela tore the material of the burley man's shirt away, immediately noting that the bullet was imbedded deep, as there was no exit wound.

"This bullet must come out," she murmured, almost to herself. Turning to the others, she added, "Would you all please wait outside...I'll need you to move him over to the recovery bed when I'm finished."

The men nodded and turned to go. Grace, in tears, clung to her husband's right hand, pressing kisses to it and whispering prayers that he would be all right. Michaela met eyes with Dorothy and motioned with her head toward Grace. The woman understood and nodded, stepping forward.

"Grace, let's go on outside and give Docta Mike room to work," she persuaded gently as she put an arm around the café owner's shoulders. Grace resisted at first, but finally acquiesced, leaning to give her husband a quick kiss before allowing the other woman to walk her out.

As the others began to leave, Michaela turned to slip her physician's apron over her elegant red dress, and glanced at Charlotte. "Charlotte...would you stay and assist?"

"I'll help ya, Dr. Mike!" Colleen offered, meeting her mother's eyes for permission.

Michaela bustled around the table, readying her supplies, and glanced at mother and daughter. "I would be pleased to have you both," she offered, and they each nodded as Dorothy shut the door on her way out.

Once she put the blacksmith under again with chloroform, Michaela showed Colleen how to monitor the patient for periodic reapplications of the anesthetic. Charlotte was a quick study on the various surgical tools, and stood ready to assist. Once everything was prepared, Michaela set to work gently probing the wound, extracting the hunk of metal, disinfecting the area, and expertly stitching up the ragged edges of the bullet hole. Both Charlotte and Colleen proved very capable nursing assistants, and Michaela was glad for the help and support.

As she tied off the last stitch and cut the thread, she took in a deep fortifying breath and allowed herself to relax a bit as Jake and Daniel returned to gently move the unconscious man over to the recovery bed.

As Daniel straightened up and turned, he and Michaela paused and glanced into each other's eyes, in truth quite uncomfortable. Michaela opened her mouth to try and say something to alleviate the awkwardness, but he put up a hand to stop her, then ran the hand back through his disheveled blond hair.

"If, uh, you don't need me anymore tonight..._Dr. Mike,_"he paused, "I think I'll turn in now. It's been a heck of a night."

Swallowing uneasily, Michaela nodded as she noticed his lips were split, Sully's fists having made contact more than once. Crossing quickly to the cabinet, she took out a tin of ointment and turned, pressing it into his hand.

"For..." she hesitated, gesturing toward his mouth and scraped knuckles.

He sighed tiredly and took the tin with a nod. Michaela watched as he bid the others goodnight and disappeared out the clinic door, and thoughtfully listened to his footsteps as he went up the stairs.

Turning, she met eyes with Charlotte, the other woman giving her a knowing look.

The doctor clamped her lips tightly together and turned to busy herself in preparation for standing vigil with her patient until he was out of the woods.

OOOOOOO

Michaela glanced with a tiny smile over at the loving couple in the corner, Grace murmuring private quips to her husband as she fed him some chicken soup. The doctor had heard the blacksmith admonish his wife several times that he could eat with his right hand, but his sassy wife was having none of it, finally managing to persuade her husband to relax and let her tend to him.

Robert E. had come through the surgery fine, and this morning the area looked free from infection and on the way to mending.

The loving, 'knowing' looks the couple exchanged made Michaela immediately long, again, for Sully to return. All night she had strained her ears listening for the sound of the posse returning, but so far nothing.

For a moment, she allowed herself to relive that magical moment from the evening before when he had blurted, "Because I love you!" before sweeping her into his arms and kissing her with such desperate passion she could still feel its tremors reverberating in her body. Turning her head to gaze out the window, she unconsciously raised a hand to touch her fingers to her lips.

The blacksmith looked over at the lady doctor sitting at her desk seemingly deep in thought. Having witnessed Sully's fight with his best friend and Dr. Mike taking off after him at a run, Robert E. had a pretty good idea where the doctor's mind was at that moment.

"Dr. Mike?" he called, causing her to look over at him, obviously bringing herself back into physician mode. She immediately rose from her chair and walked over.

"Robert E.? Are you in pain? I can..." she paused as he held up his right hand.

"Naw, I'm fine. Jus' wanted ta say thanks...for fixin' me up last night," he explained with a friendly grin.

Michaela smiled. "You're welcome, Robert E."

"Thank you, Docta Mike...I don't know what we woulda done, if you wasn't here..." Grace added with a teary smile as she once again relived the moment her husband slumped to the ground.

Michaela reached out and clasped the café owner's hand with a warm smile.

Just then, she heard footsteps coming down the interior stairs and she turned toward the closed door. The steps paused at the door to the clinic, but then continued on out the main door and on to the porch where she could see Daniel's form pass by the window.

Knowing she needed to have a conversation with the man, she drew in a breath and turned to the couple. "I'll return in a few minutes."

They nodded and watched as she crossed to retrieve her shawl from its peg, letting herself out the clinic's door. As she stepped out onto the porch, she just caught a glimpse of Daniel's back as he entered the mercantile. Wrapping the shawl around her tightly, she hurried down the street and slipped in the door of the store.

Daniel was standing at the counter speaking with Loren about a purchase. Both men quieted and looked her way as she entered.

Glancing between the two and immediately noticing the tension, and of course having witnessed the altercation the evening before, Loren mumbled an excuse and made a show of hurrying away to the storeroom to give the two some privacy in the otherwise empty store. Although in typical 'Nosey Loren' fashion, he deliberately left the door slightly ajar, straining his ears to catch the gist of their conversation.

Daniel turned his head and looked at her over his shoulder, but said nothing. His eyes were speaking volumes, however.

"Daniel...may I speak with you?" Michaela murmured softly, truly hating that she had obviously hurt him. That had been the last thing she wanted.

"Sure, Dr. Mike," he answered, pointedly avoiding using her given name. He turned toward her and met her eyes, his expression now carefully controlled.

Swallowing nervously as she realized he wasn't going to make this easy for her, she took a step toward him. "I...I wanted to thank you, and explain..."

He clamped his lips together and looked away, fighting for control.

"Michaela...there's no need ta thank me, or to explain either. I see how it is now. Once again, Sully got there before me," he added with a tinge of hurt. Her eyes reacted at his choice of words and he quickly amended, "Sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded. It's just..." he paused and shrugged, meeting her eyes. "I guess there's a _reason_ I'm still single."

"Oh Daniel, I want you to know how much our friendship means to me..." Michaela intoned, stepping closer. He cringed a bit at the word 'friendship' as she continued on softly, "Getting to know you these past few weeks has been very enjoyable for me. I've grown to care about you a great deal...you're a kind, brave, wonderful...handsome man...and I feel very honored by your proposal of marriage..."

He drew himself up to his full height and stared down at her, gritting his teeth and narrowing his eyes as if waiting for a blow. "But?"

"But I...I'm in love with Sully," she murmured just above a whisper in this, the first time she had actually said the words out loud. She looked away from the hurt in his eyes. "I just wasn't sure how he felt...he never said..." she stammered, striving for words to somehow ease the situation. Glancing back at him, she added gently, "I apologize if my actions indicated something other than friendship."

Daniel stared at her, seeing from her expression the veracity of her words. For the first time, he realized that his feelings for her were more fascination and infatuation for the incredibly special woman she was. But coming face to face with the depth of Sully's emotions toward her, and now, her undisputable love for Sully, he suddenly knew that what was between those two was different and much, much deeper than his own feelings. He had almost been seeing Michaela as a prize to win. His expression slowly began to soften and his normal, happy-go-lucky smile once again graced his face.

"Aw Michaela...it ain't your fault. You've always been a perfect lady around me." He paused and shook his head self-deprecatingly. "You were givin' me signals of how you felt...always hangin' on every word or story about Sully, never crossin' the line...I just chose to ignore 'em."

Michaela smiled her gratitude and took another step closer. "Daniel...the _right_ one is out there for you." She reached for his hand, taking it gently in hers, meaning the words. "I'm sure she is...and you'll find her very soon. And...she'll be a lucky woman, indeed."

The two stood gazing into each other's eyes for several moments, Daniel wishing with his whole heart that there were something he could do or say to change her mind. He tried to be angry or hurt, but somehow couldn't.

Suddenly, Maude's footsteps were heard on the stairs, and Loren knew he could return from the back storeroom without looking like he had been snooping, both effectively ending their moment of privacy. The two separated a few feet, clearing their throats and appearing occupied by merchandise.

"I was upstairs sweepin' the porch and saw the stagecoach comin'," Maude informed her husband.

"Good, hope them supplies I ordered are on it," Loren grumbled as he put down the armload of blankets he was carrying.

"Oh good," Michaela added as she moved away from the man at the counter. "I hope the medicine I ordered from Chicago is among the packages."

Just then, the door burst open to reveal Brian holding his hat in place, panting from his run down the street.

"Dr. Mike! Ma tol' me to fetch ya. The posse's back!"


	34. Chapter 34

CHAPTER 34

Sully was tired, stiff, and more than a little sore. His jaw ached from Daniel's large fists connecting multiple times. His lips stung if he opened his mouth too wide, but he had been treating them with the juice from an aloe plant, a trick taught to him by his Medicine Man friend. His own fists were scraped from the altercation, plus he was sure there were bruises on his back from when Daniel slammed him into a table before they crashed together to the ground. And, being up all night had not helped to improve his physical condition – or his temperament.

The thief had proven extremely hard to catch, the situation made worse by Hank's stallion stepping in a chuckhole and snapping its leg, throwing Hank off as he fell. The posse had to stop, see to Hank, and put the poor horse out of its misery, before they remounted and continued the chase. During those moments, the thief had been able to put quite a distance between them.

Thankfully, there had been a full moon, allowing Sully to use his expert tracking skills to see where the thief had veered off the road and into the brush as he tried to throw them off his trail. It took a good deal of determination and fortitude, but they stuck with it, and by a stroke of luck – the bandit unknowingly riding into a boxed canyon - they had caught up with him. After a few minutes' standoff, Sully managed to sneak around some rocks and took the man by surprise without anyone being injured.

Now, the tired, dusty, grumpy group of men rode back toward town with their prisoner. Sully was looking forward to what he knew would be a grateful smile on Grace's face when he returned her money pouch to her hands. Of course, none of the group knew that Robert E. had been shot.

As Sully rode along, he could allow his mind to return to the previous evening's events. He relived watching Michaela having the time of her life dancing with the 'dapper' Daniel, how absolutely breathtaking she had looked in that red dress. He remembered following them as they left the party, and overhearing his best friend propose marriage to Michaela..._his _Michaela, and hearing her admit that there had been times she was sure she was in love with him. That memory felt like a blow to the gut, not too dissimilar to one of Daniel's punches. He thought about the stubborn look in her eyes as she had told him it was none of his business if she married Daniel or not.

And then...the knock down, drag out fight he'd had with his friend. Sully's hands curled into fists again as he remembered how angry he had been, blindly raging with his hands around Daniel's throat as he tried to choke the life out of him...Michaela's voice screeching at him to stop...the overpowering realization of his own feelings when sanity had returned.

But most of all, he relived the fact that she had chased after him when he had angrily stalked away. How she had made him turn and face her – and how she had managed to get him to admit his feelings. And then..._that kiss_. He felt his body reacting as the memory played through his mind, the feel of her lips, her tongue dancing with his, her softness pressed to his body – and the fact that she had kissed him back with an all-consuming passion.

It should be simple now...he should _know_ how she was feeling, what she was thinking...if she was thinking about _him_ right now. But a tiny grain of insecurity took that opportunity to rear its ugly head again and torment him with the fact that she hadn't immediately turned down Daniel's proposal. Daniel was rich now...he could give her _security, _and oh how that word grated on him. That he had heard with his own ears her actually saying there had been times she was _sure_ she was in love with Daniel! How could this be? Was she in love with both of them? Can a woman love two men at the same time?

This thought jerked him back to the months at the fort when she had labored over the decision of whether or not to marry Captain Lewis. How it had been so hard for her to, in a sense, _give him up_. His brooding thoughts tortured him. _Is she a tease? Does she just 'look' like a lady, but really she's a black widow spider gathering victims, a string of conquered hearts hanging from her chastity belt?_

"NO!" he murmured out loud, his own heart violently refusing that possibility. _Michaela's the sweetest, gentlest, kindest woman I ever met. She's pure and good and wonderful...DANG, she's still innocent!_

Sully aggravatingly shook his head against the torturous thoughts and sat up a little straighter, grateful that he'd had the foresight to put the saddle on the horse before he left the homestead to attend the party. If he'd been riding bareback right now, he'd really be in pain.

Rounding a familiar bend in the road about a mile from town, Sully let out a weary sigh, rubbed his hand over the stubble on his face, and threw a glance over his shoulder at his companions. The looks he received in return let him know they were all feeling the same way. They took a few moments to discuss their plans of putting the prisoner in the jail and who would take turns watching him until the territorial Marshall could come and collect him.

Turning back around and realizing that in a very few minutes he could have the answer to some very important questions, Sully set his face forward for the remainder of the ride.

OOOOOOOO

The posse stopped at the jail and deposited the prisoner. Finding the livery closed, and the café likewise, Sully headed toward the boarding house with Grace's money pouch. A bad feeling suddenly gripped his heart about the shot he had heard before high-tailing it after the bandit.

Charlotte confirmed his suspicions and took him to the door of the clinic to see the patient. He swallowed nervously as he went in, steeling himself to face Michaela, only to find her absent. His suspicions ramped up again at this discovery, but he pushed them aside as he happily presented Grace with every dime of her money and stayed a few minutes to make sure his friend was, in fact, going to be fine and would suffer no lasting effects from the bullet in his shoulder.

Then Charlotte walked him out to the porch, filling him in on what had happened after the posse left. Unable to hold it in any longer, Sully met his friend's eyes and murmured softly, "Where are they?" She knew without asking to whom he was referring.

Looking past his shoulder, Charlotte watched as Michaela emerged from the door of the mercantile, staring their way as she huddled uncertainly in her shawl. Charlotte met Sully's eyes again and moved her head in the tiniest of nods in answer to his question.

Slowly turning, Sully saw the woman who never left his thoughts standing apprehensively in front of the store. Conflicting feelings bombarded him – shame, embarrassment, contriteness...love, desire. At that distance, he could just barely make out her expression, but she seemed to be trying to gauge his. He took a step into the street, but before he could move again, Daniel emerged behind Michaela and stood at her elbow, also staring at him. Sully's whole body froze still and he unconsciously held his breath as he watched them, uncertain of his next move. _I spilled my guts to her last night. It's her turn..._

xxxx

Michaela had waited inside the store, watching through the front windows as the posse stopped at the jail. Her hungry eyes watched Sully as he dismounted and went to check the livery for his friend. She saw his confusion and knew he was wondering why the man wasn't at work at his forge like always. She watched as he took a few steps toward the café area, but saw no one about, then immediately turned and sprinted past the jail and around the corner of the boarding house, knocking on the kitchen door. She saw Charlotte invite him inside, and she wondered if she should go to him, but her mother's voice in her head cautioned against acting too 'bold' with a man. So, she held back, unsure of what her next move should be.

Taking a deep breath, she tried to appear to be browsing merchandise near the window, her nervousness gaining momentum as the minutes ticked by. Several times, she glanced over at the others in the store, and each time they averted their gazes elsewhere, but she could tell they were each waiting to see what would happen next.

Finally movement caught her eye and she turned to watch as Sully and Charlotte emerged onto the porch in conversation. Unable to stand the suspense any longer, feeling like she had been waiting years for the 'other shoe to drop', Michaela nervously stepped to the door and turned the knob, letting herself out onto the porch of the mercantile. She had no idea what he would do. Would he glare at her and turn his back? Did he regret his outpouring of emotion, his declaration the night before? What should _she_ do? Wait for him to make the first move? Go to him? Unconsciously she pressed her hands together, twisting them nervously.

Then he was turning and gazing straight at her. At the distance, she couldn't make out his exact expression, but at least he wasn't turning away. She heard the door open behind her and felt Daniel pause by her side. She turned her head and looked up at him briefly, seeing the resigned look in his eyes. Then he gave her a tiny smile and nodded toward the man down the street, whispering, "Go on, Dr. Mike."

She looked back at Sully, saw him take an uncertain step toward her, and her feet began of their own accord to move toward him as if drawn by a magnetic force. She barely registered the stagecoach rumbling to a stop to her left, totally unconcerned by the nearness of the horses, her only thought _Sully._ He took another step, then two, and then she found herself running as fast as her feet would take her – she couldn't get to him fast enough! As she drew closer, she could see the mix of emotions on his face, joy and a tiny bit of uncertainty. Everything else faded from view, the street, the buildings, Charlotte stepping to the porch with a huge grin on her face as she watched. Then Michaela reached him and slammed into his arms as he caught her and swung her full circle. Her arms were wound around his neck as he allowed her feet to touch the ground again. She hugged him fiercely, so very glad of his safe return.

As she pulled back, she looked up into his eyes, noting they were bloodshot and evidence of his fatigue. His face was scratched, his lips in the same condition Daniel's were from their ferocious fight – over _her_. Hers eyes filled with tears as her emotions spilled over, and uncaring of their surroundings she murmured sweetly, "I love you, too!"

He chuckled happily and leaned in for a sweet kiss to seal their declarations, careful of his half healed lips. Then he swept her into his arms again and rocked her back and forth in an embrace of total relief, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Each wondered why they had waited so long to voice the volcano of emotion now bursting from their hearts. How had it been contained for so long?

"Oh Michaela, I love ya so much," he whispered against her ear, his eyes closed as he reveled in the feel of her in his arms.

"I think I've loved you from the moment we met," she sighed and snuggled against him, reveling in the sensation of his body pressed to hers, his arms, warm and strong, holding her close. She didn't even mind the scratchiness of his now four-day stubble against her cheek as she held him tight. All she cared about was the waiting was finally over, her dreams were coming true, her future was about to begin...

However, the sweet mood was soon shattered.

"Michaela! What on EARTH is the meaning of this display?" a familiar voice called from behind.

Michaela's eyes popped open and she instantly disengaged herself from her man's arms.

Turning around, she encountered the very disapproving glare of someone who had just arrived on the morning stage.


	35. Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

"Marjorie! What are you doing here?" Michaela exclaimed, unconsciously moving a step away from Sully.

He immediately noted the change in her demeanor. Still he stood firm at her side, gazing at the woman standing several feet away with a hand on her hip, overly dressed, albeit a tad dusty, in her Boston finery, her red hair swept up under a stylish hat. He watched her lip curl in disgust as she allowed her eyes to rake over his appearance, and then her sister's. Sully bristled a little under her obvious condemnation, though more for Michaela's sake than his own.

"I am _here_ in response to a telegram Mother received from a Mr. Horace _Bing,_ informing her that her daughter could very well _die_ of _influenza_," Marjorie replied sarcastically. "She received no further word and no replies to a return telegram, so _I_ was elected to make the journey here to check on you," she added by way of explanation. "And may I say - seven days by rail, a six-day wait in St. Louis, then six more days on a stage coach - the trip was sorely lacking in the amenities!" she finished, glaring at her sister as if the discomforts were _her_ fault.

Michaela stood dumbfounded, having had not the slightest inkling that her sister was on the way to Colorado Springs. Sully turned his head to look at her profile, noting the stunned expression.

"_Michaela_. Have you totally forgotten your manners since you came to this God forsaken place? Not to mention your _dignity_? Are you going to introduce this _cowboy_ on whom you just threw yourself? Or are you just going to _stand_ there and stare at me?" Marjorie asked in a decidedly arrogant manner, although by her tone it was obvious she couldn't have cared less who Sully was.

Michaela snapped out of her fog and cleared her throat, glancing quickly at the man at her side in silent apology and belatedly realizing the three of them had become quite a curiosity to a gathering group of onlookers. "I'm sorry Marjorie...this is Mr. Byron Sully. Sully, this is my sister, Marjorie O'Donnell..."

"Marjorie _Quinn_," her sister interrupted, causing Michaela's head to snap back to her sister in surprise.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I am in the process of reclaiming my own identity, not that the middle of a _dirt_ street is the ideal place to discuss this," she stated with obvious disdain.

Michaela was speechless, but her sister's grousing took care of that problem. "Michaela, I am tired, hungry, thirsty, and in need of a bath and a rest. Now would you be so kind as to show me where the hotel is in this backwoods town?"

Michaela could feel Sully's temper slowly rising as he stood silently at her side and she knew he was fast forming an unfavorable opinion of her sister, not that she blamed him. Quickly, she reached out for Marjorie's arm and turned her toward the boarding house's door.

"Colorado Springs has no hotel, Marjorie. But Charlotte has some empty rooms here in the boarding house. Come, I'm sure you'll be very comfortable," she urged, now anxious to take any further discourse behind closed doors.

The Beacon Hill socialite tipped her head back and gazed at the extremely rustic exterior of what was to be her lodgings, complete with hitching post and horse trough.

"I suppose it will have to do," she sighed tiredly.

OOOOOO

Having received Michaela's promise that she would return momentarily as she disappeared inside the boarding house with her sister argumentatively in tow, Sully lowered himself tiredly onto the bench next to the door. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the wall with a sigh.

Several moments later, however, he opened his eyes again when he felt a presence. Daniel was standing nearby, leaning against a post with his hands in his pockets.

"Caught the guy, huh?" Daniel asked, mainly wanting to break the ice.

Sully glanced up at the other man, gauging his mood. Daniel's expression was carefully neutral. "Yeah. Took all _night_, though."

Daniel nodded, cleared his throat, and moved over to sit at the other end of the bench. He leaned forward, elbows on knees as he idly watched two men carrying a heavy timber down the street.

"So...who was that that got off the stage and lit into M...Dr. Mike?"

Sully's eyes immediately cut to Daniel's face at the mention of Michaela, but he swallowed and craned his head around, one hand rubbing the back of his neck to try and relieve a little tension. "Her sister."

"Mmm. Her sister, huh? _Sassy_, but kinda cute," the tall blond man returned with a half grin.

Sully glanced at him again, chuckling dryly and muttering, "If you say so."

Daniel chuckled too, both men lapsing into silence, thinking about their vicious row the evening before – wanting to bridge the gap, but not sure if they should bring it up.

Glancing at the other man's face and noticing the half healed lesions on his lips and other evidences of their encounter, Daniel reached up to rub his own injuries, murmuring, "You still pack a punch like a dang mule."

Sully rubbed his own scraped face, his mouth forming a tiny grin. "You ain't lost _your_ touch, neither."

They lapsed into silence again, both struggling with their feelings toward each other and toward Michaela, and neither one wanting to upset the fragile beginning of reconciliation they had achieved so far. Several minutes went by as they both watched the town's comings and goings.

"Dan..." "Sul..." they both began simultaneously, breaking off with soft snickers.

Daniel forged ahead. "I'm sorry I lit into ya like I did."

"Aw, I started it," Sully shrugged. "I was determined ta get ya ta swing at me. I wouldn'a let up."

They both glanced around, uncomfortable, their friendship never having been tested quite to that extreme before.

Sully finally leaned forward, matching Daniel's posture, locking his fingers together and staring at them. He turned his head and met his best friend's eyes. "She's just...under my _skin_...you know?" Daniel nodded silently. He knew quite well.

Sully continued softly. "I...I fell for 'er, _hard_, the minute we met...even though she was engaged to another man and I was still feelin' guilty about Abby." He paused thoughtfully. "It's like...like I was _meant_ ta meet Michaela. She's like...a _fire_ in my blood. And the thought of her with _you_..." he paused again, shrugging as he tried to articulate his feelings. "It made me _crazy_."

Daniel met his friend's gaze steadily, seeing within a depth of feelings for the lovely lady doctor that far surpassed anything Daniel had ever seen in those familiar blue eyes before. He smiled softly. "She tol' me she wants her and me to be friends..." he paused and chuckled self-deprecatingly, philosophically shaking his head. "I gave it my best shot, but ya beat me again, buddy."

Sully chuckled also; relaxing in Daniel's presence for the first time since he came back from the reservation and found him camped outside Michaela's bedroom door. He reached over and clapped his friend on the back. "Aww, Daniel. _Yours_ is out there. You'll meet her soon."

Daniel smiled sagely and nodded, remembering Michaela had told him the same thing.

Just then, the center door opened and Michaela stepped out on the porch, her eyes immediately going to the two men. Seeing them together, her heart skipped a beat, but she relaxed when she saw their jovial expressions.

Taking this as his out, Daniel stood up. Nodding and smiling sincerely at Michaela, he murmured politely, "Dr. Mike. Sully," before turning and ambling toward the saloon.

They watched him disappear through the swinging doors, and then Sully stood and faced Michaela. Their closeness from minutes before changed to an awkward awareness as they each strove to regain the lost ground.

Hank strolled out onto the porch of the saloon, a wide grin on his face as he watched the two 'lovebirds,' nodding with a wink when Michaela glanced his way. She blanched, and he chuckled and struck a match to light a cheroot.

Michaela wrapped her shawl tighter against the chill breeze and the barkeep's lascivious stare. "Would you, um, care to come in for...a while?" she asked Sully softly, indicating the clinic with a turn of her head.

Sully's lips moved into a soft smile, his eyes brimming with love as he gazed at her. "Sure."

His eyes watched her movements as he allowed her to precede him inside and through the clinic door, shutting it behind him. As she turned toward him to speak, he stepped close and gently gripped her arms, gazing down into those multi-colored eyes that had occupied his every thought and dream since their first encounter.

Mesmerized, she could only gaze back as he lifted a hand, his fingers softly touching her face. The blue of his eyes, as always, warmed her from her head to her toes.

Still smiling, he teased softly, "So ya love me, 'eh?"

She blushed and looked away from those knowing eyes, but remembering his virulent declaration the night before, she looked back.

"Yes," she whispered with a tiny smile. "And _you_ love_ me, _hmm?"

"Yes," he confessed with a whisper. His eyes caressed her with such forthright emotion she tingled all over.

"I guess this means we're offish'ly 'courtin', hm?" he asked wiggling his eyebrows.

"I suppose it does," she returned, smiling again, totally lost in the overwhelming headiness of his close proximity. "Why did we wait so long to say it?" she wondered out loud.

He shrugged, his closed lips still curved in a sensual smile. "Don't know."

"So many misunderstandings could have been avoided," she pressed.

"Yep," he agreed.

She grinned teasingly, raising one eyebrow. "It was foolish."

His eyes twinkled. "Yeah, it was."

Her eyebrows furrowed in mock frustration as she murmured teasingly, "Must you agree with me _all_ the time?"

Still gazing at her lovingly, he leaned in, touching his lips to hers softly, gently as their eyes fluttered closed. She melted, raising her hands to his chest to feel the firm muscles beneath the material of his shirt. He pulled back for a moment, but her eyes were shut, wanting more. He leaned in, pressing soft kisses to her lips again and again, the last one long and heavenly. Ending the kiss, Sully wrapped his arms around her, one hand to the back of her head as he pulled her close. She wound her arms around his torso, fitting her forehead into the curve of his neck and sighing blissfully.

Michaela's heart was so full of love for this man, she felt as if it would fairly burst. She was so very grateful to have him in her arms, _and_ that the longed for declaration had occurred at last. At that moment, if a genie told her she could have three wishes she wouldn't have been able to think of a thing, so complete was her contentment.

Sully's heart also felt full to bursting with a fierce, protective love for the woman in his arms. He was overwhelmingly thankful and relieved that she had pursued him the evening before and insisted he tell her his true feelings. He almost shuddered to think of the alternative. If he had walked away, he may very well have pushed her directly into Daniel's arms. The thought was too disturbing to consider. He tightened his grip and sighed, quietly satisfied and happy.

After several long moments, Sully pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring, "Now I'll show ya my world."

She pulled back a bit and gazed up at his face, a wry half smile on hers. "I've _seen_ your world. I live here, remember?"

He grinned teasingly, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of her nose. "Ya _live_ in _town_. I wanna show ya my homestead, and take ya out to the reservation so you can meet Cloud Dancin' and Snowbird."

She smiled happily, thinking she would go anywhere with him. "I'd love to."

He immediately released her and grasped her hand. "C'mon, let's go."

She resisted with a gasp. "You mean _now_?"

"Yeah, sure. C'mon," he returned with a toss of his head toward the door.

"But...my sister just arrived...and I could have a patient..." she blustered, unable to embrace such a 'spur of the moment' foray. Suddenly the prospect of being _alone_ with an amorous Sully seemed quite...risqué. This would be quite different from spending an unchaperoned afternoon with _Lieutenant_ Sully.

He tugged on her hand, using every ounce of persuasion he could muster, as he suddenly had an uncontrollable desire to get her away from everything and everyone. To do some serious 'sparking.'

"They can wait. 'Sides, it'll give us a chance to _be_ together..._alone_," he urged, his tone sensual, reflecting his thoughts.

That sent a wild current of electricity shooting up and down her spine, but still she resisted. "But...you want to go both places _now_?"

He grinned as he realized part of her problem. "Naw, we'll go out to the reservation another day. I wanna show ya my homestead, tell ya my ideas for improvin' it." He tugged on her hand again.

Michaela was torn between what she had always been taught about propriety...and the strong desire to give in to his request. The pleading, little-boy look in his eyes finally succeeded in melting the last of her reserve and she smiled and nodded in acquiescence.

After she had gathered her things, stuck her head in the kitchen door to let Charlotte know where she would be in case of an emergency.

Collecting Flash from the livery, they set off on the road to Sully's homestead, each one excited about the prospect of spending the next few hours in one another's company, uninterrupted.


	36. Chapter 36

CHAPTER 36

After stealing dozens of surreptitious looks at each other on the trip to Sully's property, they finally rounded the last bend and the homestead came into view. Choosing not to tell him she had seen it once before, Michaela now viewed the house, barn, and surrounding yard, noticing how much work Sully had managed to do on the place since he'd been back.

Sully watched her reactions as she surveyed his home, his awareness of her wealthy background still very much a part of his consciousness. He hoped and prayed that she wouldn't think his place so far 'beneath' her standards that she couldn't see herself living there.

They pulled their horses to a stop at the porch, and Sully immediately dismounted, rounding Michaela's horse and raising both arms to lift her down.

"Well...here it is."

"You built all of this _yourself_?" she asked softly.

He glanced around with a feeling of satisfaction, as it had taken years of work.

"Yep."

"It's a fine homestead, Sully," she complimented, though thoughts of Abby walking around the yard, hanging clothes on the line, or laughing with Sully in marital bliss tried to crowd in. She determinedly pushed them away.

Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the barn. "C'mon, I'll show ya around."

They inspected the barn, which Sully kept neat and clean, the smell of fresh hay and leather a pleasant tang in the air inside the shadowed interior. They walked around the grounds, Michaela noticing the steep rock hill directly behind the house, and the drop off down to the creek on the far side.

"The land goes past the creek for about forty acres. I been trying to decide whether I wanna put in some crops next year and farm it, or maybe try my hand at bein' a cattle rancher," he murmured with a shrug. "But I'm gonna get me a milk cow...and some chickens...and maybe a hog or two..." he paused, not allowing the rest of his thought _for us to live on_, to pass his lips. There was time for that, he reminded himself. Don't rush things.

Michaela breathed in the clean, crisp air as she turned to survey the spread. "It's so quiet and peaceful here. So far from the noise and dirt of the town," she added softly, a hint of a frown on her countenance as she thought of the miles between it and her clinic.

He noticed, considering this. "That good...or bad?"

She turned and smiled up at him. "Definitely good. Sometimes the noise of the saloon keeps me awake..." she paused and her eyes widened as she realized what she had just said. "I mean..." she quickly scrambled, blushing and looking away from his amused, dimpled grin. "May I see inside the house?" she asked, flustered, and started back up the hill.

He chuckled softly, immensely pleased that she was evidently imagining at least what it would be like to _sleep_ there. _Whoa_! He shook his head to stop further thoughts on that subject as he followed her up the hill and to the porch.

They climbed the steps and Sully hurried to open the front door to the cabin, leaning back and allowing her to enter. When she did, her eyes widened at the improvements he had made since she was there last. Everything was clean and in order. The windows sparkled and the wooden floors were free of dust. The kitchen area was tidy, stove shiny, and shelves orderly. She smiled at the homey comfort the place imbued.

He moved to the fireplace and hunkered down, quickly setting logs and kindling in place on top of the previous ashes and striking a match, a warm cozy fire soon filled the confines of the stone hearth.

Turning, he grinned and sauntered close, reaching for the edges of her leather duster to help her out of it and lay it across a kitchen chair.

"It's wonderful Sully. I love your home," she murmured, acutely aware of his close proximity.

Her words electrified him and he turned her to face him.

"Ya do?" he whispered, fully intent on asking her right there if she could see herself living here...with him, as his _wife_. The words stuck in his throat as he looked in her eyes, the indescribable pull of their magnetism scrambling all coherent thought from his mind.

Michaela's heart immediately began to pound as Sully turned her toward him, gazing so deeply into her eyes. She was certain he was about to propose and her whole body quivered in expectation, her mind readying the word 'yes' before the question was even asked.

His eyes shifted back and forth between both of hers, and helplessly, he leaned down and softly pressed his lips to hers. She was powerless to do anything but respond.

Their kiss slowly warmed, sending a surge of sensual awareness rushing through both their bodies. With a low moan, Sully wrapped one arm around her, the other hand rising to cup the back of her head as he deepened the kiss, his tongue requesting and being granted entry.

As their kiss had the night on the way to Bowie, this one escalated quickly. Michaela's hands found their way into Sully's hair as she surrendered to his sensuous onslaught, actively kissing him back with fiery passion. Their quickening breaths mingled as they explored each other's mouths, starving for fulfillment.

Suddenly Sully broke off, his body reacting fiercely to her nearness. He crushed her to his chest, burying his face in the soft hollow of her neck as he fought for control over his raging hormones.

His thick stubble scratched the delicate skin above the collar of her blouse and he heard her soft intake of breath in reaction. Quickly he pulled back and met her eyes.

"What?" he whispered in concern.

She blushed, one hand rising to touch the affected area. He quickly realized the problem and chuckled, raising one hand to rub over the prickly crop of whiskers on his cheeks and chin. In truth, he was a little glad of the interruption, as it was helping him tamp down his body's roaring needs.

"Guess I need ta take care 'a that, huh?" he teased, his eyes twinkling. "Might as well clean up while I'm at it," he added with a grin.

Michaela's eyes widened at his meaning. "Oh, well...I'll just wait outside..."

He shook his head quickly. "No need. Got this curtain here," he indicated the white cloth hanging on a rod between the main room and the side alcove.

"Make yourself at home, I won't be long," he encouraged, already sliding the curtain in place and setting about finding fresh clothing. She soon heard the splash of water into a bowl as he readied a quick wash.

Michaela turned her attention to wandering the room, determinedly steering her thoughts away from a near naked Sully just on the other side of the curtain. She had seen his body while she tended to him during his fever and now the memories rose to tempt her imagination.

_Michaela Ann! Behave yourself! _She mentally chided, clearing her throat and reaching up to touch a small carving of a wolf on the mantel. It brought a memory to the surface.

"Sully? Where is your wolf?" she called to him.

He paused in the process of shedding his clothing and grinned at her question, shrugging thoughtfully.

"Don't know, but he'll be back. I told him to stay here when I went to the party. He kinda comes and goes as he pleases..." he added, thinking he and the wolf had quite a few things in common. He reached for a bar of soap and a rag, and began to quickly wash the effects of a fierce fight in the dirt and a long night's ride off his tired body.

Michaela nodded and continued her tour of the room, lightly running her hand over the back of the rocking chair, then over the desk against the far wall. She wandered into another small alcove, before turning and perusing the bed. Her cheeks went pink a little as she pictured Sully asleep under the covers that were spread neatly, though not perfectly, over the mattress...imagining herself curled in his arms...perhaps her head tucked into the curve of his shoulder...

Giving her head a quick shake to dislodge that thought from her mind, she glanced around, her eyes half closed and using her lashes as a filter as she imagined what she would do to change the room. What figurines she would place on the mantel, pillows on the rocking chair, curtains at the windows, beautiful dishes on the table, and a lovely spread on the bed. She cast her eyes around, looking for where she might keep her clothing and belongings, and spotted the chest at the end of the bed, wondering what it contained.

She could hear water splashing and Sully moving around beyond the curtain, and striving for something to say, her words caught in her throat when she saw him step to the edge of the curtained area and begin lathering his face for a shave as he leaned over before a mirror. All she could see was his bare, tanned upper torso, the muscles in his arms flexing as he skillfully maneuvered the straight razor over his cheeks and chin, then down to his neck. She felt like a voyeur as she watched, fascinated by his every move, knowing she should avert her gaze, but unable to make her body obey.

Finally, she forced herself to turn just as he angled his arms to begin working on his neck.

"Ow," he muttered softly and she quickly turned back.

"Are you alright?"

He winced as he ran his fingertips over the area, relieved to not see any blood. "Yeah, I just forgot ta be careful around my scar," he called in answer.

Her eyes widened as she remembered the terrible night she thought he would bleed to death before she could stitch the wound on his neck closed.

She moved closer. "Does it bother you? Perhaps I should take a look..."

"Nah, only bothers me if I scrape a razor over it too hard," he mumbled as he carefully finished his ministrations. Then he picked up a comb and began to vigorously run it through his long locks before he disappeared beyond the curtain again. In a few moments, he pushed the material aside as he was in the act of tucking a blue striped shirt into the waistband of a pair of buckskin pants. He approached her as she stood next to the hearth, warming herself.

"Whew, now I feel human again," he joked as he came to stand near, running his hands back through his hair and then over his freshly shaved face.

She looked him over, swallowing dryly at the handsome specimen he made with his hair combed and framing his face in soft waves, the buckskin pants hugging his hips and the blue shirt accentuating his eyes. She noticed he was even wearing moccasins and she smiled, realizing just how much his new friends had influenced his way of life.

He noticed the smile. "What?" he murmured as he stepped closer.

She shook her head softly, and then reached out to touch the slightly jagged scar that ran parallel to his jaw on the left side of his neck. The doctor in her immediately switched into examining mode, her fingers gently pressing the evidence of his injury as she stepped closer.

"Is the area around it numb, or painful at all?" she asked, glancing up into his eyes that were once again twinkling as he enjoyed her attentions.

He smiled and reached up to take her hand in his, moving his head to graze her palm with his lips. "Nope. It's fine. You did a good job stitchin' me up. I was just hurryin' is all," he admitted softly.

She smiled in relief and raised her other hand to gently caress his now smooth face, her eyes locked with his, as his expression grew intense with desire. Raising his hands to gently cup her face, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers again, in his mind taking up where they had left off earlier.

Soon they were kissing passionately again, and the headiness of it quickly overcame Michaela's senses. His warmth and now clean masculine scent wreaked havoc with her sense of propriety, her hands rising of their own accord to slide into the soft waves of his hair. All she could think about was the marvelous feeling of his mouth interacting with hers...his tongue caressing hers was absolutely intoxicating...

But then, he allowed one hand to begin wandering down her neck to her collarbone and daringly further. As his fingers closed gently over one of her breasts, he felt her shiver.

Quivering with both desire and shock, as no man had ever touched her so intimately, Michaela immediately regained her sense of decency, ruefully acknowledging to herself why young women were admonished to never be alone with a man to whom they were fiercely attracted – the temptations were quite difficult to resist. She broke their kiss and pushed away, stepping back a bit.

"Hey...what's wrong?" he asked softly, for a moment at a loss regarding her about-face.

"Nothing," she answered quickly. "But...this doesn't come now."

He grinned mischievously and reached for her, drawing her up flush with his body, allowing her to feel the evidence of his desire as he tried to kiss her lips again. "It comes with courtin'," he murmured sensually, leaning in to continue their kiss. She let his lips touch hers, but then turned her head, drawing in a deep breath as she fought against the desire coursing through her body.

"But...um...we should be getting back now," she argued, blushing and reaching around to pry his hands away.

A trifle hurt, a tiny pout formed on his lips as he stared at her, his ardor still surging. "What's the matter?"

"Oh nothing...but someone might wonder where we are," she blurted, scrambling for an excuse that didn't make her sound like a schoolgirl. They both knew she had informed Charlotte where they would be.

As Sully saw the uncertainty and maybe even a little fear in her eyes, suddenly it dawned on him that she was uncomfortable with this new level of intimacy. He could have smacked himself in the head, having forgotten that this woman he loved, though responsive and passionate, was still sexually innocent. _I need ta take it slow, easy...one step at a time..._

Forcing himself to smile, he released her and stepped back. "You're right. Your sister's prob'ly wakin' up from her rest about now."

"Yes...Marjorie," she mumbled, totally not looking forward to their next encounter. And she did hope Marjorie was able to take a rest, perhaps it would improve her disposition.

Crossing her arms over her chest in reaction to his sudden absence, she watched, wondering what he was thinking as he leaned down, banked the fire, and then reached to help her into her duster. He then reached for a buckskin jacket on a hook next to the door and slipped into it.

With a gentle smile of reassurance, he held out one hand to her as he murmured, "You ready?"

She nodded with a mixture of regret and relief and took his hand, falling into step at his side. Their fingers entwined, they paused as he firmly shut the door, then descended the porch steps and sauntered to the horses for a slow and leisurely ride back to town.


	37. Chapter 37

CHAPTER 37

Daniel topped the stairs and turned the corner as he was reading a headline in Dorothy's latest Gazette, which she had just handed to him in the hall downstairs. Not looking where he was going, he ran smack into Marjorie Quinn.

"Oh! Pardon me, ma'am. I'm sorry," he excused himself politely as he reached out to steady the woman.

"And well you _should_ be!" she groused. "And take your _hands_ off of me!" she added for good measure, shaking his hands away and reaching to adjust her hat that had been knocked askew.

Daniel pulled his arms back and up as if he'd been burned. "Sorry ma'am. No offense."

"What are you _doing_ up here, anyway? Are you one of the boarders of this establishment?" Marjorie asked crossly, casting him a glance from under her hat.

"Yes ma'am," Daniel smiled, gazing at the woman's fiery red hair and thinking it matched her personality. _She's sure different from Michaela...her eyes are blue too, not two colors..._ He stuck his hand out. "Name's Daniel Simon."

Hiding the fact that she thought him extremely handsome and quite charming with his tall build, blond hair, deep masculine voice, and alluring grin, she flicked a look of distain at his hand and raised her nose in practiced upper crust Boston hauteur. "Marjorie Quinn," she returned, only as a matter of polite manners.

Daniel smiled even bigger. "I know. You're Dr. Mike's sister."

Marjorie rolled her eyes at the nickname she had always hated. "If you mean my sister _Michaela_, then yes, I am."

"Nice to meet ya, ma'am. I'm Sully's friend."

Marjorie cocked an eyebrow at the man, tilting her head up. "_Sully?_ And just who might that be?"

Daniel kept smiling, easily seeing through the bravado to the wounded woman beneath. He had the seen the same look in the eyes of Emma, a girl he and Sully had befriended many years before who had worked as a cook in a mining camp in California. As he recalled, Emma's husband had run off with a saloon girl, leaving her behind to fend for herself. She, too, had hidden her hurt behind a curtain of sarcasm. Daniel wondered who in this woman's life had hurt her so badly...

"He's the fella that won her heart," he answered in a play on his own defeat in that area. At her expression, he added, "The one she ran to this mornin' as you were gettin' off the stage..."

"Oh – you mean that filthy _cowhand_?"

Daniel's smile faded a little. "He ain't a cowhand, ma'am, that was just..."

"I don't care _what_ he is, Mr. Simon!" she interrupted quite rudely. "Now, if you would excuse me, I need to have a talk with my sister."

He looked down at his shoes with a grin, knowing the woman would like his next statement even less. "Well, uh...you're gonna have to wait. See, she's with Sully. They rode off together right after you went in your room."

Marjorie's eyes widened as she realized what he meant – Michaela had ridden away on horseback, _alone_, with the man. Picturing the shockingly intimate display she had witnessed earlier, she wondered just how much living in the West had corrupted her Boston bred sibling. Her mind was already warming up to give her sister an earful when she returned.

"Excuse me," she muttered, brushing by him and on down the stairs.

Daniel watched her go, chuckled softly, and shaking his head. "Yes, _ma'am_."

OOOOOOO

Michaela had been gazing at Sully and laughing with joy at something he had said as they rode side by side into town. It had been a wonderful four hours and she had not wanted it to end. As she turned her head, however, her smile faded.

There on the porch of the boarding house stood her sister, dressed to the nines, complete with hat, arms crossed on her chest, foot tapping.

"There you are, Michaela Ann!" she scolded, placing her hands on her hips as she watched her sister and her escort head to the hitching rail and begin to dismount, exchanging glances in the process. "What is the meaning of this...this excursion you took with this..." she paused, her eyes raking over Sully. "What is he _now_? An Indian? Or is he what is termed a '_Mountain Man'?_" she added sarcastically.

Sully's eyes widened at the virulence of her attack, thinking that a nap and freshening up had done nothing to improve her disposition.

Michaela looped Flash's reins around the rail and stepped up onto the porch, her eyes flashing with anger and embarrassment. Also, the fact that someone was speaking of the man she loved in such a derogatory tone instantly flipped a switch inside her head.

Marching directly up to her sister and standing face to face, she spoke in a controlled, even tone, "Marjorie, not only is the porch of the boarding house NOT the place to have a discussion like this, but who gives you the right to speak to me in such a tone? You're not _Mother_!"

"Well _someone_ has to talk some _sense_ into you! Look at yourself! You're getting far too much sun, your hands are dirty, you're letting your hair fly loose..."

"It's _my_ skin, _my_ hands, and _my_ hair! What is that to _you_?" Michaela shot back incredulously, wondering what had gotten into her sister. Though Marjorie had never had the sweetest of personalities, she had never gone so far as to attack her like this.

"And you're riding off for hours, _alone_ with some heathen to whom you're not even married!"

"He is NOT a HEATHEN!" Michaela seethed, her normal penchant for manners and discretion rapidly deserting her in the face of such a personal attack. "He happens to..."

"And Lord knows what _else_ you've been doing alone with him! You should be ashamed! Mother would be shocked! Father would turn over in his grave!" Marjorie added recklessly.

In pure reaction to that, Michaela drew back an arm and slapped her sister straight across the face. Marjorie quickly raised a hand to her cheek, mouth open in surprise.

The two high-strung Quinn women stood quivering with anger. Sully stood back and suppressed a grin as he watched Michaela and her sister go at it, though ready to instantly intervene if Michaela's sister chose to retaliate physically. He'd never seen Michaela express such anger before and he felt a kind of warm pride in her defense of him.

Drawn by the raised voices, Hank pushed through the saloon doors, a rakish grin on his face as Daniel opened the center door of the boarding house and stepped out, also drawn by the commotion. A small crowd had gathered, including Charlotte and the kids, Jake, Loren, and several bystanders.

"I think we're in for a good cat fight, boys," Hank drawled as he leaned against a post and nonchalantly lifted one booted foot, struck a match against the heel, and lit an ever present cheroot. "C'mon Michaela, get this hussy down on the ground and show her what for!" he hollered with a chuckle.

"Cut it out, Hank," Sully advised as he leaned against a post on the boarding house porch.

"How DARE you call me a..." Marjorie sputtered, turning her glare toward the offending longhaired saloonkeeper.

Belatedly realizing they were causing quite a spectacle, Michaela sent the barkeep a daggered look. "And I'll thank _you_ to stay out of my business, Hank," she tossed his way as she reached for her sister's arm to steer her toward the center door.

Marjorie yanked her arm from Michaela's touch, but silently acquiesced to take their discussion indoors.

Hank chuckled again. "Gotta 'spect a little 'buttin' in' when ya conduct yer business on the porch," he called, shaking his head and shrugging with raised eyebrows at one of his customers before turning to amble back inside, swatting one of his girls on the behind on the way in.

Daniel opened the door and stepped back. Inviting them inside with a welcoming swing of his arm, he smiled at Michaela and nodded pleasantly at the redhead, but only received a withering glare for his efforts from the latter and a forced smile of thanks from the former.

When the door closed behind them, he turned and met Sully's eyes, both the men raising their eyebrows and pursing their lips in a silent "Whoa!"

"I can't believe Dr. Mike slapped her sister!" Colleen gushed, clamping a hand over her mouth and giggling.

"That's enough. Show's over, let's get back inside," Charlotte admonished, shooing the kids back inside the kitchen door as Matthew and Brian chuckled.

The crowd dissipated and the men turned to go their separate ways – Daniel to the livery and Sully following behind Charlotte into the kitchen.

OOOOOOO

Michaela closed the clinic door behind her as Marjorie stalked to the center of the room, still fuming, but beginning to be ashamed of her overreaction.

Michaela wasted no time. "Marjorie, what are you doing here?"

The redhead whirled around to face her _younger, prettier, smarter _sister, of whom she had always been secretly jealous. Their father's _darling -_ because she had chosen to follow in his footsteps, defy convention and become a _doctor_ of all things. She tilted her nose a little higher, her fingers fidgeting with the cuffs of her dress.

"I _told_ you. Mother received a telegram..."

Michaela held up a hand. "I know all of that." She stared at her sister, who now seemed to be feeling a bit contrite, and quite uncomfortable, as if there were something Michaela didn't know and Marjorie didn't want to tell her. Michaela softened a bit and stepped toward her sister.

"What is it? You mentioned you are in the process of reclaiming your 'identity'..." She searched Marjorie's expression for clues. "I thought you meant you were joining the Suffragettes or..."

Marjorie looked down, the bluster and boldness seeming to melt like a scoop of ice cream in the hot sun. Suddenly, the hurt and embarrassment of the previous months, the old insecurities, and the stress of the trip, became too much. Clamping her lips together, her chin jutting out with the effort to maintain control, she swallowed and met her sister's eyes.

"Everett left me...for a much younger woman," she whispered, the words causing her eyes to fill. She clamped her teeth, despising that it still hurt to admit it.

Michaela was shocked. No one in the family had written to tell her of this devastating turn of events. She realized just how far away and out of touch she had become since moving west.

"Oh Marjorie, I'm so sorry," Michaela whispered in return as she moved over near her, all traces of anger from the previous few minutes now completely gone. Hesitating, they tentatively went into each other's arms, affection between the two something new to them both. They stood together for a few moments, then Marjorie stepped back, retrieving a lace hanky from inside one of her sleeve cuffs. She dabbed at her eyes.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," Michaela offered softly.

Marjorie gave her a watery smile. "I'm sorry I accused you. Sometimes my mouth runs miles ahead of my brain."

Meeting Michaela's eyes again, she gave her a crooked smile, admitting wryly, "I'm afraid I've been a bear to live with of late. I think mother hoped the...adventure of going west to check on you...would do me some good."

This change in her sister's attitude was such a totally unexpected turnabout that it took Michaela by surprise, but she recovered quickly, leading her over to a bench against the wall.

"Well, I'm glad you're here," Michaela murmured as they settled together. She reached for her sister's hand and patted it comfortingly.

Marjorie chuckled self-deprecatingly and dabbed at her eyes again. "You may have to eat those words before long, you know."

They chuckled together before settling into getting each other caught up on their lives.

OOOOOOOO

Sully sat straddling a kitchen chair, his chin resting on his arms as he watched, without really seeing, Charlotte rolling biscuit dough. He was deep in thought, wondering what was going on behind the clinic door.

_Michaela's sister's so different than her...is that the way her whole family is?_ His eyes narrowed as he remembered her scathing looks and not so nice comments. _Dang, I'm glad Michaela ain't like that..._ But his thoughts went back to how different and infinitely more 'proper' she was when he first met her. He now hoped being around her sister did not result in Michaela reverting to more uppity 'Boston' ways. Back when _stability_ in a marriage..._financial stability_...was so important to her...

"Penny fer your thoughts," Charlotte offered softly, grinning as she saw his eyes actually focus on her.

He smiled and looked down, offering a tiny shrug. "Just thinkin' about Michaela." He turned toward the closed door to the clinic, visible through the open kitchen and dining room doors. "They been in there awhile..." he murmured, pausing as the awful thought that Marjorie could somehow persuade her sister to return to Boston with her flashed through his mind and caused his stomach to nearly drop.

"I ain't heard no hollerin' or nothin' breakin', so I 'spect they made up. Been awhile since she seen any 'a her family. They're prob'ly jus' catchin' up," Charlotte suggested, pausing to wipe her hands on a towel.

He shrugged again. "Hope that's _all_ they're doin' – catchin' up on news from home."

Colleen and Brian drifted into the kitchen, snagged a few morsels to eat, and then chuckled and trotted out again when their mother shooed them with the flip of a towel.

Several quiet minutes went by as Charlotte arranged her biscuits on a pan for baking. She glanced at Sully again, watching him stare at the clinic door and chew on his bottom lip.

"You ask her yet?"

He turned and met her twinkling brown eyes. "Ask her _what_?"

Charlotte grinned and tipped her head at him. "_You_ know what."

He breathed in deep and let it out in a huff, slouching in the chair.

"Nah. Thought about it, even almost did once when we was talkin' out at the homestead...but...nah," he finished, shaking his head.

"Well my goodness, Sully! Why ever not? Son, you gotta take the bull by the horns. Ya gotta strike while the iron's hot. You just gotta _do_ it," she encouraged him, smiling when he met her eyes again.

He gave a small shrug, suddenly finding the grain in the wood of the chair fascinating, his brows furrowing as he focused closely, a fingernail tracing the pattern.

"What if she..." he paused, not wanting to say the words.

"What if she says 'no'?" Charlotte guessed gently. His eyes flicked to hers and away again.

"Women don't usually say 'no' to a proposal from a man they _love_," she stated quietly, bending to slide the pan in the oven. "And the whole town knows she loves ya," she added with a grin, thinking how the news had spread like wildfire how the lady doctor had actually run down the street and thrown herself in Sully's arms. Charlotte stood up and stared straight ahead, sighing as she pictured it. It was one of the most romantic things she had ever witnessed.

_They do if the man can't give 'em 'stability'..._ he bemoaned silently.

Suddenly feeling restless, he stood up and crossed the room to the door as he slipped into his jacket, tossing over his shoulder, "Tell Michaela I'll see her at supper."


	38. Chapter 38

CHAPTER 38 -

Supper at the boarding house that evening was a stilted affair. Everyone was on edge, wondering what this volatile woman in their midst might do or say.

The children unconsciously sat up straighter and used all of their manners, even little Brian, as if they were afraid she would verbally smack them down.

Michaela sat tensely, half-heartedly nibbling at her food. Though she and Marjorie had completely mended their earlier breech, she knew her sister's state of mind could fluctuate like a pendulum and send her into another tirade. She racked her brain for subjects of polite conversation, but came up empty.

Sully had come to dinner dressed in a suit. Having given the situation much thought, and knowing people in 'polite' society 'dressed' for dinner, he had gone to his former mother-in-law and asked if she, by some miracle, had kept his wedding suit Abby had asked her to store. To say the least, he was tremendously pleased that she had. Together they had taken it out of storage and aired it out, Maude helping him get 'ready' for what might turn out to be a very important evening.

Although the suit was of an old fashioned style and didn't exactly fit him right, Michaela had smiled delightedly when he had appeared in it, noticing he had tied his hair back and had even cleaned his fingernails. She couldn't have been more proud of his show of respect for her sister, and for _her_, although Marjorie's expression upon seeing him had left a bit to be desired.

Marjorie herself was feeling quite uncomfortable, knowing everyone in the room had witnessed her and Michaela's earlier verbal sparring, not to mention the slap. Each time she met someone's eyes at the table, she felt her face flush with shame. As she chewed slowly on a bite of Charlotte's delicious stew, the thought occurred that this dinner felt much like a formal dry affair in Boston, sans an opulent setting, flashing jewelry, and meaningless conversation.

Dorothy sat quietly, observing all of the participants in this 'play'. The kids acting as if they were seated with royalty...Charlotte watching everyone's expressions, deep in thought...Sully surreptitiously tugging at his tie and trying to hide the fact that he was perspiring in spite of the cool temperature in the room...Michaela periodically opening and closing her mouth, obviously racking her brain for just the right thing to say, but coming up at a loss, and her sister looking as if she would rather be anywhere, but there. But _Daniel_...the astute newspaperwoman watched him from beneath her lashes as he leisurely ate his meal, seeming totally unaffected by the tension in the room.

In truth, Daniel _was_ the most relaxed there. He was not put off nor intimidated by Marjorie. Matter of fact, she rather intrigued him. Normally, Daniel wasn't a man who was attracted to shrewish women, but Michaela's sister had touched something deep inside him. Somehow without being told directly, he knew she was hurting inside, that she had been done wrong – royally wrong – by her man. That she was still reeling from the blow. Taking a bite of his meal, he cast yet another glance her way, noting the peaches and cream skin, much like Michaela's, the graceful way she held her fork, the gorgeous picture she made in her Boston finery, and the lovely reddish/auburn curls - and wondered what kind of a fool she had married. Who would toss a gem like her in the trash without a second thought?

The wheels turned in Daniel's mind, weighing his options. He was just getting over being jilted by Michaela, though the way she so gently let him down had cushioned the blow. He felt himself drawn to Marjorie, but he certainly did not want her to think he was turning to her on the rebound. Plus, he had used all of his charms on Michaela and in the end all that mattered was what was in her heart. He resolved then and there to let things progress on their own with _this_ Quinn lady. He would bide his time and see what developed..._if anything_.

Finally into the silence, Colleen cleared her throat. "Th...that's a _real_ pretty dress your wearin', Mrs. Quinn."

Marjorie glanced at the girl, a rebuke on her tongue that her name wasn't _Mrs._ Quinn, but Michaela gently intervened.

"Actually, Colleen, her name is Mrs. O'Don..."

Marjorie leaned to place a hand over Michaela's on the table, not even wanting to _hear_ the name she had grown to hate. Then turning to the girl and striving to put forth an effort at friendliness, she smiled gently and offered, "Colleen, you may call me Marjorie."

Colleen smiled, greatly relieved, and gushed, "Thanks, Miss Marjorie! As I was sayin', that surely is a pretty dress!"

Marjorie glanced down at the lovely green and cream dress, then up at Colleen again. The dress complimented her hair and figure perfectly, and was one she always seemed to wear when she needed more...confidence. "Thank you. It _is_ one of my favorites."

The table as a whole seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and Matthew cleared his throat. "Uh, Ma? I was over at the store today and some fellas from the immigrant camp was asking Mr. Bray if he had any extra work...I was thinkin'," he paused, glancing around the table as everyone was chewing their food, but listening to him. "I was thinkin' that maybe you could find somethin' for a few of 'em...like chopin' wood, or washin' windows...or maybe one of the girls could wash sheets for ya..." he added.

"One of the girls? Like _Ingrid_ maybe?" Colleen teased, laughing when he swatted at her with his napkin.

"They're really hurtin' since their Pa died of the grippe," he qualified as he took up his fork again, casting a glance at his mother. She nodded to indicate she would see what she could do.

"A lotta families are. Seems like nearly everyone lost somebody," Sully agreed thoughtfully.

"Yes, but I was just thankful it wasn't worse. The whole town coulda been wiped out...and mighta been if Michaela hadn't been here..." Dorothy pointed out.

"Every family's loss was terrible...but it was a miracle that more weren't infected with the limited amount of supplies we had to work with, and putting as many as four patients together in some rooms here..." Michaela added sadly.

"That's exactly why we need a hospital," Daniel interjected. "Denver's just too dang far to go..." he paused, his eyes flicking to Sully to gauge his reaction to what had been Daniel's 'trump' card in trying to win Michaela's hand. He was relieved that his friend was leaning toward Brian and teasing him about something, no reaction obvious.

"Your offer to finance a hospital is most generous, Daniel, and I for one am very excited about the prospect," Michaela answered, her eyes meeting his as she smiled her gratitude that he hadn't changed his mind about the project. "But I admit I don't have a clue how to start...perhaps hire an architect?"

"Well, the first thing to do would be to secure the land," Marjorie advised knowledgeably, causing every head to turn her way. Swallowing another bite of her food, she added thoughtfully, "After having it surveyed, of course, for the proper drainage, elevations, right of way, etc. Then, you would need to decide how _large_ of an edifice you want, remembering that once it is built it will need to be staffed..." she paused as she realized everyone sat frozen, amazement evident on each face.

"I beg your pardon for overstepping..." she began, but Daniel quickly interrupted.

"No need ta apologize. You sounded like you knew what you were talkin' about there..."

Marjorie's face formed a wry grin. Glancing at Michaela, she shrugged delicately. "Well, being married to an architect for fifteen years, one picks up a few bits of knowledge here and there, I suppose."

Daniel grinned into her eyes and she smiled back. "I'd say more than a few _bits_."

She inclined her head with a whispered, "Thank you."

Michaela turned and met Sully's eyes, both pleased with this turn of events. Sully because he had been concerned how Daniel would act around them and if he would wind up leaving for parts unknown again, and Michaela because in her mind's eye she could see how Daniel's attentions might be just the medicine her sister needed.

The rest of the meal went smoothly, with much conversation bandied about concerning the building of the hospital.

After awhile, the kids left the table, Charlotte and Dorothy gathered the dishes and took them to the kitchen to wash them, and later Michaela and Sully quietly excused themselves as Daniel and Marjorie continued their discussion.

OOOOOOO

Sully held the door open for Michaela to precede him out onto the porch. It was a cool November evening and Michaela drew her dark green shawl around her snugly.

She glanced at Sully, smiling her half grin as she watched him tug yet again at his necktie.

"You look very handsome tonight, Sully," she murmured softly, allowing her eyes to caress his frame. Although the suit didn't fit perfectly, he still looked marvelous...though she paused a moment trying to decide which of his looks she liked best.

He glanced her way. "Thank you," he murmured, turning to take her hands in his. He noticed the grin.

"_What_?"

"Oh nothing...I was just trying to decide which of your personas I like best..." she lowered her voice to make sure their conversation remained private. "The immaculately uniformed Lieutenant Sully...the intrepid Indian scout, complete with feathers...the strong and silent, bewhiskered cowboy Byron Sullivan...the relaxed and comfortable, buckskin wearing Sully...or _this_ one." She cocked her head and gazed up at him coquettishly. "Which is the real _you_, Mr. Sully?"

He grinned and chuckled softly. Then, his eyes locked with hers as he gently released her hands and raised one of his to softly touch her face, whispering, "All of 'em," before slowly lowering his head until his lips touched hers, their eyes closing blissfully.

A quiver went through her body at his words, knowing his quip was quite truthful. There were many sides to this enigmatic man with whom she had fallen in love, and she knew deep down that he would continue to surprise her with his resourcefulness and depth of soul.

He deepened the kiss, his warm, smooth lips gently caressing hers...

Just then a man came flying out of the saloon doors and landed on his back in the street, causing Sully and Michaela to break apart in surprise.

They looked over to see it was Horace as Hank came out of the bar, pointing at him with the tip of his cheroot.

"I told ya, if ya wanna 'talk' ta Myra, _alone_, she costs _money_. Now git outta here, _lover boy_," he sneered, taking a last draw and flicking the stub of the cigar at the prone man. Horace, shamed, scrambled up off the ground and dusted himself off as the barkeep turned and ambled back inside the saloon, shoving a concerned Myra ahead of him. Horace glanced over at the two standing in the shadow of the porch, and then slunk on down the street to his lonely room behind the telegraph office.

"Poor Horace," Michaela murmured as they watched him go.

"Yeah."

Their mood broken, the two glanced at each other again, Sully clearing his throat as Michaela once again drew her shawl around her, unconsciously touching her fingertips to her cheek, physically missing the warmth of Sully's hand. She wished she possessed the boldness to grasp his hand and place it once again against her cheek...to reignite the actions that had been interrupted.

"Your, uh, sister sure knows a lot about business and buildin'," he observed softly.

"Yes, she does. I never realized..."

"It's great what Daniel wants ta do with his money, huh?" he ventured, watching her expression.

"Yes, its certainly generous. A hospital here will save so many lives..." she paused, wanting to be careful and not dredge up hard feelings.

"Yeah...sure will."

After a few moments of silence, Michaela smiled up at him and turned to go back inside. "Well...goodnight, Sully."

He took a step toward her, one hand out. "Wait...um..." he paused as she turned back.

"Yes?"

"I'd...I'd like to take you out...to the reservation... tomorrow, if it's a good day for ya...would ya like to go?"

The idea excited her and she smiled happily. "Yes, tomorrow is fine. I'm looking forward to meeting Cloud Dancing – and thanking him for helping save my life."

Sully nodded. "Good."

Her hand once again on the knob, she asked, "What time will you call for me?"

"About ten?"

She nodded again. "Barring emergencies, I'll be ready."

Meeting one another's eyes once more, longing to fall into each other's arms but cognizant of their location in the center of town – and across from the busy and quite rowdy saloon, out of which, just then, came a boisterous round of shouts - they merely smiled and bid each other a fond goodnight.

Each would spend the night dreaming of and reliving the passionate kisses shared in the homestead that morning – and looking forward to what the morrow might bring...


	39. Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

Sully knocked on the clinic door promptly at 10:00 the next morning.

"Come in," Michaela called, as she finished up with a patient, a little girl named Becky who had a case of chicken pox. As she ushered the mother and daughter outside with instructions for the little girl's care, she flashed a smile at her gentleman caller.

"I'll be right with you as soon as I scrub my hands."

He nodded and leaned against the now closed door, watching as she scurried around the room, dropping medical items into some kind of liquid solution, grasping a rag and quickly wiping down the examination table, and replacing her stethoscope and other utensils back into their proper place. Then she quickly stepped to a table against the wall and made short work of washing and drying her hands.

Turning as she untied her white apron, she flashed him another smile, this one a bit more relaxed. "Now I'm ready."

He smiled back, but remembering the promise he made to himself during their time alone and unchaperoned at his homestead, he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless, saying instead, "Good. Let's go."

He ushered her out the door, anxious to get on the road.

OOOOOO

Michaela glanced over at her handsome escort riding bareback on his beautiful 'paint' horse, loving the way his soft honey hair fluffed in time with the rhythm of the animal. Her eyes caressed the buckskin jacket he was wearing, with its intricate designs and colorful beadwork at the shoulders. It looked so warm and good against his tanned skin.

"Your jacket is beautiful, Sully. Did you make it?"

He glanced down at it and ran his hand over the velvety soft leather, chuckling a bit as he realized Michaela didn't have a clue how long making something like that took.

"Nope. Snowbird did."

He met her eyes, seeing that she was yearning for the full story of why his friend's _wife_ made such a treasure for him.

"After I'd been at the reservation for a few weeks, one night she was standin' too near the horses and somethin' spooked 'em," he paused as he remembered the frightening occurrence. "One of 'em reared and woulda come down right on top of her, but I was close enough and dove at her, knockin' her outta the way. So..." he stopped again and glanced her way, noting her concerned expression. "She gave it to me for savin' her life. She told me she'd been makin' it for a long time and didn't know who for, cause Cloud Dancin' has one he likes and didn't need it. Fit me like a glove first time I put it on," he added, smiling at the memory.

"That's wonderful," she murmured, picturing the scene. "I'm so glad you were able to save her."

"Yeah. Cloud Dancin' is, too," he quipped with a grin.

They rode along for a while, enjoying the scenery and the easy, _right_ feeling of being alone together.

She glanced down at the wolf trotting contently along beside Sully's horse.

"So, Wolf returned last night?"

"Yep. Told ya he would. He comes back when he's ready. He just likes to go off by himself now and then."

Michaela glanced his way, but his face was forward, his profile revealing nothing of his thoughts. For some reason, she felt he was trying to give her a subliminal message.

"Why?"

Sully shrugged and shot a glance her way, "Just his nature. Most wolves travel with a pack, but now and then you find one that's a loner, like him."

She grinned playfully. "So that makes him special. Unique."

He grinned, enjoying their game. He thought for a few moments of double entendre comments he could make.

"I heard him singin' a few times, night 'fore last."

"Singing?"

He nodded, raising a hand to brush back a wisp of hair that had blown onto his face.

"To attract a she-wolf. Like this." With that he tipped his head back and yowled a perfect imitation of a howling wolf.

Michaela giggled, thoroughly enjoying his playfulness.

"If _I_ were a she-wolf, I'd show up. But...what then?"

"They mate," he stated bluntly, his eyes meeting hers, allowing her to see straight into his heart. _She_ was _his_ mate.

The words shot sparks down her spine, but she played it cool. "Oh? Can a lone wolf mate?" she asked, raising one eyebrow flirtatiously.

"Yep." He faced forward again, eyes scanning for any danger they might possibly face on the trail, ever the protector of the lady fair. "Course, he still might need some solitary time, once in a while."

She thought about this for a moment in connection with himself. "What for?"

"Get off someplace private. Brood...think."

"Wolves think a lot, do they?" she teased with a half grin.

"Mmm hmm. Males, anyways."

"The she-wolves, do they do the same?"

He grinned at her, knowing she was telling him she understood his need for a time of solitude. "No. But they oughta."

"Indeed."

Their eyes held for long moments as their horses trotted side by side. She was his mate, in every way. And he was her lone wolf, and he was quite a prize...special...unique.

They rode on together in electrified silence.

OOOOOOO

As their horses topped a small rise, Sully pulled his to a stop and Michaela did likewise.

There spread below was a sight she had never before beheld - a Cheyenne village. Dozens of teepees dotted the landscape; smoke gently rising from their tops. Men, women, and children were busy with various activities. Women carried water from a stream nearby or tended to one of several campfires. Some knelt by stretched hides, working the skin to make it softer. Braves sat working on projects of some kind, arrows or something with leather, or standing together and talking. Children ran and played, laughing happily.

"Oh Sully...it's beautiful," Michaela breathed, at a loss for words to express her feelings. The village gave her such a feeling of peace and harmony, and for a moment she tried to picture Sully living there the months he had been gone.

Sully turned his head and watched the myriad of expressions crossing Michaela's lovely face; he wondered what she was thinking.

Anxious to introduce his brother and his 'family' to the woman he loved, he murmured, "C'mon."

She nodded and together they urged their horses down the slope. People on the outskirts looked up at the sound of horses, many smiling a greeting as they saw Sully, but held back just a bit at the unknown white woman with him. Others greeted Wolf with happy smiles.

A small child ran and alerted Cloud Dancing that his friend had arrived. As the two pulled their horses up to the outskirts of the group of teepees, Sully slid down and immediately rounded Michaela's horse as she dismounted. The child that had run to inform Cloud Dancing reached for their reins, wishing to be helpful to the kind white man and the beautiful white woman with the long copper colored hair.

Cloud Dancing ducked through the opening of the closest teepee with a shorter, older, regal looking Indian following.

The medicine man grinned and came forward to Sully, extending his arm in greeting.

"Haho he'neho!" [Greetings my brother]

"Haho," Sully returned, clamping arms and then pulling his brother into a half embrace.

"Haho hóse Ve'hone Mo'ôhtávetoo'o," [Hello again, Chief Black Kettle] Sully greeted the chief in surprisingly competent Cheyenne, receiving a friendly smile and a clasping of the arms as the old man echoed, "Haho."

Black Kettle then moved his gaze from Sully to the lovely woman at his side.

Using a form of sign language, he asked Sully if this was his woman. Sully grinned and signed back that he hoped to ask her soon. The old chief grinned knowingly and nodded in approval, noting the body language of the woman as she hovered near Sully's side.

Michaela watched the exchange with interest, although she felt a little out of the loop. She made a mental note to ask Sully if he would teach her how to speak in the language of the Cheyenne, thinking it sounded a tiny bit like French, which she had studied extensively during her school years.

Turning to smile proudly at Michaela, Sully spoke to both men, "Ho'âhé'tov tóo'e'ov Michaela." [I want you to meet Michaela]

"Michaela, this is Chief Black Kettle, and my friend and brother, Cloud Dancin'."

The chief grinned warmly at Michaela and made a sign, which meant he was pleased to make her acquaintance, adding a murmured, "Haho."

"Haaho," Michaela slowly enunciated the one word Sully had taught her on the ride out to the reservation.

Cloud Dancing smiled at her attempt. "It is good to see you again, Dr. Quinn, and that you have recovered. You were still unconscious with fever the last time I saw you."

Michaela's mouth opened in pleased surprise at the handsome Indian's greeting, spoken in perfect English. She glanced at Sully to see his eyes twinkling with mirth. He had saved that piece of information as a surprise, that his friend could speak English so well. And she had been so worried about the language barrier!

Recovering quickly, she met Cloud Dancing's dark, friendly eyes. "Thank you, Cloud Dancing, for everything you have done - for saving my life, and those of others in the town. I am in your debt."

The wise Indian smiled and nodded, pleased with the kind spirit he sensed within this woman his brother loved. The spirits had told him in a dream that this woman, this _medicine woman_ from the east, would come to mean a great deal to the tribe. Now that he saw them together, he could easily see that she and Sully shared a strong connection.

"I am pleased I could be of help."

Just then, a beautiful Indian woman stepped out of the teepee on the other side from where they stood and came near, her hair in two braids, wearing a lovely buckskin dress decorated with beads and quills. Sully greeted her cheerfully and even stepped over to give her a hug. Then he turned to Michaela and explained that this was Cloud Dancing's wife, Snowbird.

"I am told many good things of you," Snowbird greeted with a friendly smile, her eyes twinkling as they looked from her husband's brother to the woman at his side, noting that she had unconsciously grasped Sully's hand in hers.

"And I about you. And oh, Snowbird, I especially want to thank you for my wonderful horse, Flash. She...she was the best gift I have ever received, and I want you to know I will treasure her, always," Michaela told the woman sincerely.

Michaela was once again pleased that another of the tribe could converse in English, although Snowbird's speech was not as polished as her husband's, it was quite understandable. Michaela once again made a mental note to ask Sully how these two people came to speak and understand the white man's language so well.

Soon, Snowbird invited Michaela inside the teepee she shared with her husband. Sully gave Michaela a sweet kiss on the cheek in parting, leaving the two ladies to get acquainted while he took a walk with his brother to bring him up to date on all that had happened since he had seen him last – the fight between he and Daniel, he and Michaela admitting their love, and her sister coming to town.

Wolf trotted along happily at Sully's side.

OOOOOOOO

"So...there seems ta be a lot 'a fresh meat and hides around since I was here last," Sully murmured when he had finished recounting his news. "Huntin' been good, huh?" They had stopped near the horses and Cloud Dancing had shown him a new foal from his favorite mare.

"The meat and hides were provided by the dog soldiers," Cloud Dancing replied as he watched Sully dip his fingers into a pouch containing seeds they were snacking on, and then removed a handful to plop into his own mouth. "We are not allowed to leave the reservation and follow the game anymore," he explained matter-of-factly.

"Dog soldiers?" Sully asked, that term giving him an uncomfortable feeling. He lifted a hand to smooth a lock of hair from his face as he glanced around, noting a few braves he didn't know eyeing him rather distrustfully.

"Mmm," Cloud Dancing grunted. "They follow the buffalo and the elk, stray into land your government says is no longer ours. But they bring meat and hides our people need to survive the winter. It is their intent to stop the white man..." he paused, eyeing his brother.

"Stop the white man..." Sully repeated, feeling like an outsider for the first time since that very first day that Cloud Dancing had brought him to the village.

"Blue coats have been killing our hunting parties and breaking the treaty they made with Chief Black Kettle. Two days ago, a small village of mostly women and children, one day's ride from here, was attacked by white soldiers and burned to the ground because the dog soldiers were taking refuge there. The dog soldiers say this must _stop_," the medicine man informed his friend and brother.

Sully had heard nothing about this...but then again, his whole mind and heart had been caught up in his 'contest' with Daniel. His brother's words conjured up pictures that made him feel queasy, especially thinking of the battles he had participated in during his time in the cavalry.

Now he turned and met his brother's dark, fathomless eyes. "I'm sorry, Cloud Dancin'. I...I wish there was somethin' I could do..."

Cloud Dancing smiled and clapped his brother on the shoulder. "My people know that you are not like most whites. You will always be welcome in our camp," he added, accurately reading the worry and discomfort in Sully's eyes.

"Now, let us go back and join our women. I wish to learn more about your medicine woman from the east. Perhaps she will teach me some of _her_ medicine," he added with a twinkle.

Sully chuckled softly and turned as he lovingly ruffled Wolf's ears, falling into step beside his brother as they made their way through the maze of people and teepees.

Cloud Dancing's words had struck fear in his heart. What would he do if he had to come face to face with a cavalry patrol? The thought made him shudder.

He began to pray that they would not come to Colorado Springs.


	40. Chapter 40

CHAPTER 40

"Would you like another slice, Mrs...Marjorie?" Charlotte asked her boarder politely, holding out a basket with still warm bread inside. "And maybe a little more preserves?"

"Yes, thank you," Marjorie replied, reaching for another piece of Charlotte's delicious bread.

"Where did you get such delicious preserves?" she asked as she spread a spoonful onto the bread and took a dainty bite. "I've never tasted anything quite like them."

Charlotte grinned and nodded. "Thank ya. I made 'em myself. This year was a good crop 'a blackberries."

Marjorie met her eyes, realizing that compared to this woman, who was accomplished in so many things, she knew practically nothing of 'value' in the real world. Her opinion of what she had at first thought of as 'backwoods hicks' changed with each hour she was there.

"Good heavens...you are quite good at everything, aren't you, Mrs. Cooper?" she asked her host, with more admiration than envy.

Charlotte shrugged with characteristic humility. "Aww, out here if ya don't do it yerself, most 'a the time ya go without." Then sitting back down and spooning some preserves onto her own plate, she added as she thoughtfully licked a bit off her thumb, "'Sides, I always liked bakin' and fixin' and doin.' Gives me...a little satisfaction, I guess."

Marjorie nodded in agreement as she chewed another bite, trying to remember if there had been anything in her life that had given her that feeling of satisfaction her host had described. Sadly, she silently admitted there hadn't been much.

Daniel strolled into the boarding house's dining room at that minute. "Sorry I'm late, Charlotte. Anythin' left?" he teased as he took his customary seat.

"Always got plenty for _you_, Daniel. Lemme fetch some more from the kitchen," Charlotte responded as she rose again from her seat.

Daniel looked across the table at Marjorie, who was obviously enjoying the bread and preserves she was eating. "Charlotte's a good cook, ain't she," he stated rather than asked.

Marjorie met his eyes. Her stomach fluttered a tiny bit as she took in the handsome picture he made in his blue cotton pants, brown vest, and blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his muscled arms, his blond hair windswept and dark blue eyes twinkling with friendly mirth.

"Yes, she certainly is," she managed, adding a small smile to her compliment.

Casting around for more to converse about, he wondered aloud why the children weren't at the table. Marjorie offered that she thought they might be spending the day with someone named, 'Olive.' Daniel nodded.

Grabbing a plate, Daniel mused, "Sure is chilly out there. Looks like a storm might be blowin' in, too."

This caused Marjorie to frown and look toward the closed curtain at the window.

"Oh my. I hope my sister returns before then..."

Daniel had wondered where the doctor had gone. Now he watched the expressions on Marjorie's face. "She go someplace with Sully?"

Marjorie nodded, her face showing that she still had ill feelings about Michaela 'gallivanting around' with the man, but as Michaela had pointed out – she wasn't her mother. She wasn't even their oldest sibling, Rebecca, to whom Michaela might have listened. No, she was only _Marjorie_, a mere two years older. Michaela was very much her own person, and Marjorie could already tell she would not be able to perform their mother's directive to 'bring Michaela back from the godforsaken west.'

To answer Daniel's question, she met his eyes again.

"She left me a note saying he was taking her to meet his Indian friends at the reservation and she would be back this evening." Then casting her eyes around, she murmured in slight frustration, "I don't even know where this 'reservation' is, if something should happen to her..."

Daniel grinned and leaned toward her a little. "Marjorie, she's with _Sully_. She couldn't be safer. Believe me – he ain't gonna let her get hurt." Then as Charlotte came back into the room with two bowls of steaming vegetables, Daniel added just under his breath, "He knows if he does, he'll answer ta _me_."

Charlotte flashed him a look, not sure what the comment referred to, and Marjorie merely nodded, deep in thought. At that moment, his inference didn't register.

OOOOOOO

"And our son, Walks on Clouds, will be married soon," Cloud Dancing murmured, casting a fond glance at his wife, which she returned with a familiar smile.

Michaela watched the loving Indian couple, unable to miss how they seemed to be so much in love after two decades of marriage. Though Sully hadn't formally proposed yet, she knew deep down it was only a matter of time, and she turned her head to gaze at him for a moment as she allowed a daydream of the future to play on the screen of her mind. She knew they would be happy together, like their hosts. The thought warmed her even more than the crackling fire in the center of the large teepee.

The four of them had been talking for hours, and had eaten a meal together, which Michaela found simply delicious. Each one remained constantly amazed at the easy camaraderie they shared. It was as if culture and race had no meaning, no bearing, between the new friends. Michaela found herself surprisingly comfortable sitting on the ground on pallets of animal furs, and she loved the homey interior of the cone shaped abode of their hosts.

Also, she could tell that Sully felt perfectly at home there. Her eyes caressed him as he sat cross-legged, happily munching on some seeds, his faithful wolf curled close to his side. He seemed totally relaxed and happy.

The women had been laughing together at shared jokes about 'men', while their men lounged on the other side of the fire and gazed at them fondly, casting looks of comradeship toward one another, several times murmuring private sayings in Cheyenne just to teasingly frustrate the only one of the four who couldn't yet understand the language. But she was quickly learning.

After one shared private joke about women taking a long time to get dressed in the morning, Michaela warned the men in a decidedly serious tone, "Enéstovó!" [I heard that]. The shocked expression on both the men's faces was her undoing, however, and she dissolved into chuckles, along with her accomplice and language coach.

Sully growled playfully and lunged across at her, managing a few quick tickling jabs before she could secure his hands. Wolf barked playfully as if wanting to join in the fun.

"Sully! Sully stop!" she squealed softly as they both chuckled together. He acquiesced, and the two sat breathless, nose-to-nose for a few moments, until Wolf decided to make his presence known and burrowed between them with a quick slurp to Sully's chin and Michaela's cheek, ever the peacemaker.

Cloud Dancing watched his two friends for a moment, cognizant of the fact that his friend and brother now seemed 'whole' and happy, and he knew this woman in their midst had a lot to do with that. His dark eyes twinkling with mirth, he turned to his wife, giving her a mischievous look. But quick as a flash, she playfully grabbed up a rock from around the cooking fire and brandished it as a weapon, cautioning, "Ah ah, no you will not."

The four laughed together in fun, pausing as a cool, damp burst of wind moved the teepee's door flap. This was the third time for such a gust of wind.

"My goodness..." Michaela murmured, only now registering that they could be in for some bad weather.

Sully moved to the flap and held it aside, immediately noticing the fast approaching dark clouds.

"We should prob'ly head back..." he murmured over his shoulder.

Michaela maneuvered over next to him, alarmed at the sudden change in the elements.

"Yes, indeed," she murmured, turning to gather her things.

The Indian couple exchanged glances, all four then ducking through the opening to stand outside the teepee. People were scurrying to and fro, checking ropes on the horses and making sure their dwellings were as secure as possible in the face of the approaching storm.

"Sully...perhaps you should wait..." Cloud Dancing began, but Michaela turned and interrupted.

"No, we really must get back..." then meeting eyes with Sully, she added, "Marjorie will be worried."

He nodded, though the decision didn't rest easy in his heart. But to please her, he acquiesced. "All right, maybe we can beat it."

Quickly saying their goodbyes, the couple ran to their horses and started off toward town, hoping to outrun the rain.

OOOOOOOO

They had been riding hard for about ten minutes when the rain began to beat down, quickly soaking their hair and clothing. With the cool November temperatures, they were soon quite chilled, despite their leather coats.

"I don't know about this!" Sully hollered her way over the sounds of the rain and pounding horses' hooves.

Michaela turned her head toward him, lifting a hand to push wet hair from her face and wishing she had taken the time to braid it. She had left it down, knowing Sully liked it that way.

"We _must_ keep going!" she hollered back, though the prospect of at least another thirty minutes' ride in such conditions was daunting. The sky as far as they could see was nothing but thick, dark rain clouds. Lightning flashed occasionally, quickly followed by thunder. Michaela could feel Flash quivering in fear as the sweet mare continued on, the road now sluggish with mud.

Sully was quite worried about Michaela, knowing that it hadn't been long since she had recovered from her close brush with death at the hands of the grippe, and he now wrestled with his choices. _I shoulda known we were in for bad weather! I shouldn't 'a took her all the way out there today just on horses, shoulda took a wagon... _He looked over at her, gamely battling the wind and rain as she urged Flash to keep going. He had been too focused on being with her, and not enough on their surroundings, and now he could kick himself for his dereliction of duty. Maybe they should...

Before he could form another coherent thought, he watched in horror as lightning hit a tree next to the road, causing Flash to stumble and rear. With everything so wet, Michaela couldn't hold on and with a squeal, she slid off and landed, thankfully, in the center of a swollen creek they happened to be crossing.

Instantly, Sully was off his horse and scrambling to Michaela's side.

"'Chaela! You alright?" he fussed as he pulled her into his arms.

She quickly took stock of her condition, noting thankfully that nothing seemed to be broken, the water having cushioned her fall.

"Yes, I think so," she sputtered, hiding her face from the downpour against his wet jacket.

Making his decision, he declared firmly, "It's too far and too cold to keep goin'. I'm takin' ya back to the reservation."

As she opened her mouth to argue, a cold gust of wind hit her face, stealing the words. She turned her head into Sully's chest and nodded.

Sully looked around, relief flooding him as he saw that Flash and his horse, Oma'é [Cheyenne for 'Paint'] had not bolted, but were standing about three yards away, quivering. He helped Michaela to stand and together, with Wolf at their sides, they made their way out of the water.

OOOOOOO

"Where ARE they?" Marjorie worriedly screeched as she stood at the dining room window of the boarding house, gazing out at the fast approaching darkness. The rain was coming down in sheets across the muddy street, illuminated by an occasional flash of lightning.

Colleen stepped close to the distraught woman, the twelve year old reaching out a tentative hand to touch her arm at an attempt at comfort. "They're alright, Miss Marjorie. Dr. Mike is with Sully and he sure ain't gonna let her get hurt..."

"Yeah, he's smart and brave, and he _loves_ her, Miss Marjorie," Brian took up for his hero, smiling up at his mother as she reached out and pulled him against her.

"I bet they saw the storm comin' and decided ta stay at the reservation," Matthew chimed in, thinking he was helping.

Marjorie turned to him, her eyes wide. "Taking shelter in a _teepee_? What kind of shelter is THAT!" she snapped.

"The Indians know what to do in case 'a storms. They been livin' that way for hundreds 'a years," Charlotte soothed, but Marjorie turned worried eyes on her.

"I am not concerned about the INDIANS. My sister shouldn't be out gallivan..." she groused, but paused as footsteps came up the hall from the back door at that moment.

Charlotte, the kids, and Marjorie turned toward the door as Daniel appeared, chuckling and shaking rain drops from his hat and coat.

"Man, it's rainin' cats, dogs, and _bears_ out there!" he joked, but his smile dimmed a little as he saw Marjorie's expression.

"Mr. Simon, I _insist_ that you go out to this _reservation_ and find my sister _immediately_!" she ordered without preamble. "She could be in some kind of trouble, and the man she is with is _your_ friend," she added, as if his friendship with Sully made it his responsibility.

Daniel glanced at the others and let out a soft sigh, approaching the agitated woman. In spite of her tone of voice and choice of words, he only saw her as a woman who felt out of her element, a frightened sister worried for her sibling in unfamiliar conditions. He reached out and gently grasped one of her hands, gazing down into aggravated, worried blue eyes. Surprisingly, she didn't yank her hand away.

"Miss Marjorie," he began softly. "It'd be foolhardy ta try and get out there tonight, and especially 'cause Sully can protect your sister. He's smart, he knows these parts, he uses his head...and he'd die before he'd let anythin' happen to Dr. Mike."

Marjorie found herself gazing up into the kind, calm face of the man holding her hand and realized he somehow made her believe his words as she felt her fear and angst begin to dissolve. She vaguely wondered if he was truly as kind as he seemed, having convinced herself that all men were wolves that couldn't be counted on or trusted.

He gave her an encouraging smile, having felt a lessening of angst emanating from her, and she nodded in response.

Lightning crackled and thunder boomed at that moment, and as one, six faces turned to stare out at the dark and muddy street.

Secure, warm and dry within the solid structure, each one, for the first time, tried to imagine what it must be like for the Indians...and each one hoped Daniel's confidence in his friend's abilities would be well placed on this wild and wet night.


	41. Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

Sully held the door flap for Michaela to scoot inside, he and Wolf immediately following. The animal paused inside the door and gave his fur a thorough shaking. The interior of the teepee was dark and smelled of damp leather and earth, and was a little unnerving for Michaela, as she was unsure of her bearings. No fire burned in the center ring, and the only light was an occasional flash of lightning visible through the smoke hole at the top.

"Hang on, I'll get a fire goin'," Sully murmured as he quickly hunkered down a few feet away. Within moments, a tiny flame began to burn the kindling he had set. She watched, shivering, as he expertly built the flame, ignoring his own chilliness, and the cold wetness of his dripping hair.

"Okay, come on over near the fire and try ta take the chill off, I'll be right back," he instructed gently and before she could say a word he had ducked out the door flap and was gone with a gust of damp wind.

Shivering, she wrapped her hands around her wet leather-covered arms, clamping her teeth to stop their chattering, and haltingly stepped close to the warming fire in the center. After a moment, she held her shaking hands out toward the comforting flame. Soaked to the skin from her plunge in the creek, not to mention riding unprotected in the pouring rain, she knew she needed to get out of her wet clothing. The prospect of that, however, seemed daunting at best.

Wolf drew near, gently nuzzling her leg and gazing up at her with his wise, unfathomable eyes.

"You're cold and wet too, huh boy?" she murmured to him. The animal whined softly and then moved to the door flap as if to go find Sully. She immediately called him back and he obeyed, trotting back over and gazing up at her expectantly. She reached out shakily and caressed the damp fur at his neck, whispering, "That's a good boy. Sully will be back in a moment." He cocked his head a bit to one side, as if trying to make sense of her words.

She glanced around her surroundings, noting the sparseness of the furnishings, so different from the homey atmosphere inside Cloud Dancing and Snowbird's teepee. She wondered whose teepee this was and why it wasn't being used.

A drop of water landed on her cheek from her wet bangs and she reached a hand up to smooth back her hair, thinking she must look a mess, between the rainwater, creek water, and mud. Still shaking with cold, she reached to draw the long tresses around to the front and began to squeeze the excess water from the strands.

Glancing to her left, a colorful object caught her eye and she focused on it in the gloom, realizing it was Sully's red and black poncho. The sight gave her a tiny smile, and she began to move toward it when the door flap moved and Snowbird scampered inside clutching a wrapped bundle against her chest.

Without preamble, the no-nonsense Cheyenne woman began as she gestured to the bundle, "Dry clothing for you and Sully. Is cold, you must take off wet things quickly." Then, as if they had known each other their whole lives, Snowbird began helping Michaela peel off her soaked leather duster, and then her blouse and heavily soaked skirt, leaving her shivering in a wet chemise and pantaloons.

As if she were her older sister, Snowbird snatched up a small blanket and began to vigorously dry Michaela's long hair as she hovered as close to the fire as possible. Snowbird had brought a lovely, light colored soft buckskin dress and after a few moments, helped her new friend slip it over her head.

"Take off your under clothing," Snowbird gently ordered, not thinking that Michaela would find the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger uncomfortable. Michaela, however, nodded and wriggled out of them, breathing a sigh of relief when the last of the chilly, clinging cloth no longer touched her skin. She slipped her arms inside the sleeves of the dress and allowed it to cascade down her form, marveling at its comfort and fit.

"Where did Sully go?" Michaela asked softly.

The Indian woman smiled reassuringly and pointed upward toward the smoke flaps at the top of the teepee. "He and my husband are..." she hesitated, not knowing the English words to explain. "Hoóhtsenán [smoke flap]," she explained in Cheyenne, demonstrating with her hands that the men were affixing an extra piece of hide around the top of the teepee to keep out the rain, but would still leave a little room for the smoke. She then made signs to convey that they would also tie down lashing ropes to ensure the cone shaped dwelling would be resistant to the wind. Michaela nodded in quick understanding.

After a few minutes, as the women were arranging Michaela's wet clothing on a line suspended between two of the lodge poles, Sully ducked inside the flap, his hair and clothes dripping wet. Droplets of cold rain fell from his lips, chin, and nose.

He dropped Michaela's saddle and physician's bag next to the fire and glanced at the women, glad to see Michaela appeared to be much more comfortable.

"Thanks, Snowbird," he murmured with a grateful nod to his friend.

She nodded and glanced at the two of them with a grin, taking her cue to leave.

"I see you in the morning, Dr. Mike," she murmured as Michaela added her thanks and gave her new friend a quick hug.

Moving to the door flap, she addressed Sully, "O'a'hasené hone'oo'o [dry clothing]," pointing to what was left of the bundle she had brought. He nodded his thanks with an affectionate smile.

When they were alone, Michaela instantly slipped into physician mode and crossed to Sully, concerned about how wet and cold he appeared.

"You need to get out of these sodden clothes before you come down with a catarrh," she murmured, helping him shuck out of the heavily drenched jacket. His shirt was soaked also, and without thinking, she immediately began helping him with the buttons as his hands were actually shaking with cold. Enjoying her attentions, he allowed her assistance and soon it joined the jacket on the ground.

Then the impropriety of the situation hit her as she came face to face with Sully's muscular, hairy chest and he lifted both hands to run them back through his wet hair. They were standing close and their eyes met...

The sensuousness of being alone together in the shadowy teepee heightened their already charged awareness of one another. The rain somehow made that awareness escalate a hundred fold and Michaela nearly gasped, blushing, and moved over near the fire. Sully grinned to himself, knowing full well the direction her thoughts had strayed.

"You need to..." she began, gesturing at his soaking wet buckskins.

He wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly. "Yeah, I know. Snowbird brought me a pair of Cloud Dancin's..."

She nodded and quickly turned her back, snatching up the small blanket to again work on her hair, wishing dearly for a brush.

Sully reached for the fastener on his belt holding his tomahawk and knife and dropped it to the ground, then moved his fingers to the closure on his buckskins, but stopped and flashed a look at her rigid back in the extremely fetching dress. He couldn't help but notice how it fit her perfectly and accentuated her curves. He swallowed, knowing she probably had nothing on under it as he observed her delicate bare feet and smooth white calves.

"Don't look," he managed to tease softly.

With her back to him, she paused in the act of working on her hair and rolled her eyes.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she murmured over her shoulder, hearing him snicker softly as he performed his task. After a bit, he passed by her, wearing dry leggings and a colorful loincloth, and carrying his wet things to hang them on the line with hers. Then he reached down and retrieved her saddle blanket and arranged it on the line as well.

Her eyes were drawn to his bare feet, and then to the bit of smooth, firm skin peeking out on either side of the cloth covering his backside, and she resolutely turned her eyes away.

To keep her mind off the scantily clad man she was with, she glanced around at their surroundings again, noting the utensils and weapons, a supply of firewood, a coffee pot and several cups on a rock near the fire, a hollowed out gourd, some baskets, and some dried corn. Looking down she noticed that several large woven rugs covered the dirt floor. Just then, she noticed a multi-colored blanket suspended by two poles angled downward toward the outer wall, providing a cozy covering for the bed of buffalo skins and furs that looked large enough for two...

"Whose teepee is this?" she asked softly.

He grinned and looked at her over his shoulder as he arranged his shirt on the line.

"Mine."

Her eyes grew wide. "Yours?"

"Yep. This is where I lived when I was gone those months..."

"Oh," she murmured, picturing him living, eating...and sleeping, there.

"'Member I told ya I wanted to show ya my world?" he teased with a dimpled grin.

She grinned back and nodded. "So you did," she acknowledged, watching as he finished his task and turned toward her, the natural waves in his long, damp hair curling even more around his face and neck. She tried not to react to the alluring sight of his bare chest, adorned only by his beads and medicine pouch, but in truth she didn't think she'd ever seen him look more ruggedly attractive. He chose that moment to remove the wet pouch and beads, and drape them over a pole near the fire.

"Um...aren't you still cold?" she gestured shyly.

He grinned again. "Nope. I'm used to a lot worse."

She nodded, the realization just now sinking in that they were about to spend the night together, totally unchaperoned, accept for one of the canine variety - and neither of them incapacitated by illness. She had assumed that they would stay in their host's lodge when Sully mentioned returning to spend the night at the reservation.

Lightning flashed again, and Michaela realized how warm, dry, and safe she already felt inside the surprisingly sturdy structure. The sheets of pouring rain and howling wind seemed muffled and it amazed her that the buffalo skin covering was so effective. The thought crossed her mind that her friends and family back home in Boston would never believe such a thing possible. On the heels of that thought came the memory that her sister, Marjorie, would never believe it either – and she knew she would be in for another third degree when she and Sully returned.

Sully watched his companion, the woman he was head over heels in love with, wishing to put her at ease. He knew her sense of propriety was probably screaming at her, and he wanted to assure her she had nothing to fear from him. That no matter how badly his body might want to take advantage of their situation, he wouldn't. Period.

Casting around for a safe subject, he gestured to the fire.

"Ya warm enough?"

"Oh yes...I'm fine...quite comfortable," she replied, smoothing her hands down her dress self-consciously.

His eyes followed her hands and he swallowed, knowing she probably didn't realize she had just called his attention to her clothing...or rather...her _lack_ of her usual clothing. Suddenly needing distraction, he hunkered down to place more wood on the fire.

After a few moments, he gazed up at her, noting her unsure stance, and smiled reassuringly.

"Ya hungry? I've got some nuts and dried fruit around here somewhere..."

She nodded with a tiny smile and he set about finding the snack. Soon they had settled down around the fire, slowly munching on seeds and nuts, listening to the continued sounds of the storm, and trying not to think about one another's smooth, now warm skin reflecting in the firelight.

OOOOOOOO

Snowbird knelt behind her husband and lovingly rubbed the rainwater from his long black hair as he reclined on their bed of furs by their fire.

"Dr. Mike...she is still...innocent in the ways of a man..." she spoke softly in their language, the Cheyenne words rolling smoothly from her lips.

He cocked an eyebrow at her over his shoulder. "What makes you think that?"

She smiled and thought about the expression on the faces of their friends just before she had left them...and the palpable sexual tension she noticed when they gazed at one another. But she had also read between the lines of things her new friend had said during their conversation earlier that day...the body language she exhibited any time Sully was near.

"A woman knows these things," she answered teasingly, but after a few moments, sobered. "Sully is much taken with her, his heart and body yearn to become one with this woman he loves. But..." she paused, thinking how to word her concern.

Her husband smiled and understood her train of thought. The fact that their friends were spending the night together amounted to a powerful temptation that would be hard for a man to ignore.

Cloud Dancing turned and reached for one of her hands, stilling its movements as he gazed up into her eyes. "Sully will behave himself," he assured, adding thoughtfully, "He has waited many seasons for his heart to heal, and many moons to allow time for their feelings to mature. And, he not only is taken with her, he respects her. He knows she trusts him. He will not do anything tonight to break that trust."

Snowbird nodded, satisfied with her husband's reassurances. She rose and knelt by the fire to retrieve a pot, offering him a hot drink to warm him further.

He shook his head and smiled knowingly into her eyes, whispering, "I desire something else to warm me."

She smiled in return and replaced the pot, then lay down on their bed of furs next to her handsome husband.

"Your desire, my husband, equals my own," she whispered as she reached for him, their lips meeting for a deep and satisfying kiss.

All thoughts of their friends in the next teepee were pushed aside for something entirely more fulfilling, as soft sighs and the sounds of skin rhythmically brushing skin soon competed with the wind and rain.


	42. Chapter 42

_A/N – Thanks so much, Audrey, for your invaluable input on this chapter! _

CHAPTER 42

Michaela stifled a yawn, fighting off the sleepiness that signaled the moment she would have to retire for the night...on the bed of furs..._with_ Sully.

He had been watching her surreptitiously for at least thirty minutes as she found subject after subject about which to talk, both knowing she was merely trying to delay the 'moment.' He wanted so badly to assure her he had no intention of taking advantage of their situation, but could not seem to form the words. Everything he thought of to say seemed too...blunt. _Michaela, don't worry, I ain't gonna try and seduce ya... Michaela, your virtue is safe with me... Michaela, I only wanna hold ya and keep ya warm... _He determinedly pushed away images of the vivid dreams he'd had almost every night he had slept there alone - fantasies of the two of them together.

In the middle of a sentence about something cute Brian Cooper had said the week before, she yawned again, one hand delicately covering her mouth. He sighed and shook his head.

"It's about time to turn in, don't you think?" he murmured, carefully placing another couple of logs on the fire. He met her eyes and at the look of near terror in hers, he sighed and added calmly, "You take the bed, I'll curl up right here." Then to prove his words, he leaned to grasp the black and red poncho and set about trying to make himself comfortable.

She watched him for a moment, feeling decidedly selfish making him sleep on the hard ground. She glanced at the fur bed. It was plenty big enough for the two of them to sleep...perhaps even with a few inches between. She looked back at him, curled on his side, one arm under his head, and concern began to override her fears.

"Sully, I couldn't possibly sleep knowing I was warm and cozy, while you were trying to sleep on the hard ground..." she ventured, though every warning her mother had given her about being alone with a man continued to scream in her head.

He raised his head and looked at her. "'S'okay, Michaela. I've slept in worse conditions, believe me."

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she glanced at the bed again, and then back at him. Then she gracefully rose and moved the few feet to the covered bed. Kneeling down, she crawled inside, stretching out on the soft furs and extending her arms in both directions. She was right, there was plenty of room. Scooting over, she levered up and looked over at him, patting the space beside her.

"Sully, come here. There's plenty of room."

He tilted his head back, drinking in the sight she made...one creamy shoulder was peeking out where the neck of the dress had slipped, her legs and feet were bare, where the bottom edge had risen above her knees...

Slowly, his eyes rose and met hers, wondering if there was such a thing as an 'innocent vixen.' Did she truly not know how absolutely fetching she looked? Did she think he didn't realize she was naked underneath that dress? How could he not? Her still damp chemise and pantaloons were hanging on the line right behind him. He swallowed dryly.

"I'll be alright over here," he insisted.

She leveled her gaze at him, determined to not take 'no' for an answer. And he was right – at that moment, she wasn't giving a thought to her appearance or actions.

"Don't be stubborn."

He smiled softly.

"Old habit."

She smiled in return, thinking how much she adored this man.

"Give it up," she quipped, raising one eyebrow.

Realizing she wasn't going to let it go, he sat up and met her gaze again, seeing her firm resolve. _Okay...God help me behave myself,_ he mused silently.

Grasping the poncho, he made his way to the bed as the thunder crashed again nearby, musing that if need be he could step outside for a 'cold shower.'

Being the gentleman that he was, he crouched down and took her hand, tugging her over to the inside to give her the warmer half. Then as he began to climb over to the far side, he straddled her body, pausing a moment above her, which he instantly regretted. The sight of her lying beneath him, her hair strewn sensually about, eyes open and gazing up at him expectantly, was nearly his undoing.

Michaela lay there unconsciously holding her breath as Sully hovered above her prone body, and for a few moments, she wondered if her ever-gentlemanly escort were about to suddenly turn into a wolf. And if he chose to...how could she stop him? In all honesty...if he tried to kiss her...would she _want_ to stop him...? Then as quickly as it had come, the moment was over and he continued on to the outer side near the wall of the teepee.

Stretching out, he covered them both with the poncho, and settled down in the ultra soft fur – hoping he would be able to sleep.

They both lay there, staring at the blanket suspended above, each acutely aware of the other mere inches away. Michaela thought about what her mother and sister would say if they walked in right about now, and she nearly shuddered. Sully curled his hands into fists as he strove to ignore the warmth and sensuous scent of her so close.

After a few minutes, Michaela murmured, "Goodnight Sully."

He slowly turned his head, staring for a moment at her profile. She turned and met his gaze, his features shadowy in the flickering firelight.

"G'night, Michaela," he whispered. Then as his eyes searched hers back and forth, he added, "I love you."

Her heart leapt and then began hammering at his confession, that being only the fourth time he had said the words...the first time forced, the second in response to her own declaration, and the third in response to a direct question. This time, he had allowed it to come forth naturally, lovingly...from his heart.

"I love you, too," she returned breathlessly.

Oh how Sully ached to kiss her goodnight, but he didn't dare. His body was so acutely aware of her proximity he knew his hold on his manly urges was tenuous at best. He managed a tiny smile and turned his head forward again, swallowing and drawing in a deep breath.

"Ya warm enough?" he murmured after a beat.

"Yes, deliciously so," she answered softly. He closed his eyes and ground his teeth together, fighting off risqué images conjured up by her innocent word.

"Goodnight," Michaela murmured again, snuggling down and closing her eyes to sleep, unaware of the affect she was having on her companion.

After a while, he sighed again, begging for the oblivion of sleep.

OOOOOOO

It was after midnight when Daniel finally persuaded Marjorie to go on to bed. He knew his friends had stayed on at the reservation and there was nothing to worry about, and after much reassurance, he had convinced Michaela's sister that an emergency posse was not needed.

He walked her to the door of her room at the boarding house – next door to his own – and she paused before going inside. Unlocking it, she turned toward him, gazing up into his face illuminated by a flickering lamp on the wall and a bright flash of lightning from the window.

"Thank you Mr. Si..._Daniel_. I'll see you in the morning." She blanched at how that sounded. "I mean...goodnight."

He grinned and nodded, pausing before reaching to take her hand in his and raising it to his lips for a long moment as he gazed meaningfully into her eyes. Her heart sped up at his expression. Then he stood straight and murmured, "Goodnight...Marjorie."

He turned and made his way down the hall, pausing at his door to throw one last look her way, before letting himself in and shutting the door behind him.

She entered her own room and shut the door, leaning against it with a sigh. _What a trip this is turning out to be! I'm beginning to realize what my sister finds so fascinating about the West..._

OOOOOOO

Michaela was running, holding tight to Sully's hand, her heart pounding in her ears. She could hear what sounded like rifle fire behind them, getting closer every minute.

Up ahead the Casa De Lando appeared like an oasis in the desert.

"We're not going to make it!" a stitch in her side from running making her gasp in pain.

"Yeah we will, c'mon Michaela," Sully urged, speeding up and tugging harder on her hand.

"Sully...go on without me...they mustn't catch you!" she urged, but he shook his head, never slowing.

"Not without you."

A few more steps and suddenly more shots rang out. Sully groaned and stumbled, releasing her hand and grasping his neck and his side.

"Sully!" Michaela squealed in horror.

The door to the Casa opened and Lina appeared, frantically beckoning to them, obviously terrified. "Come! Hurry!" she urged.

Michaela reached to grasp Sully's uniform sleeve, trying desperately to pull him along, but he just kept slowing.

"Sully! Hurry, please!" she squealed, trying to think clearly and not panic. She had to make sure he was safe. She had to do _something_.

But then, it was too late. From out of nowhere, a large, heavy, uniformed man came sailing through the air, tackling Sully to the ground and causing him to groan in pain. The man turned the injured Sully over, wrapped his hands around his throat, and started squeezing, uncaring of the blood from the wound on his neck. Sully's eyes met Michaela's as if he were trying to say he was sorry their plan had not worked.

Michaela screamed, "NO!" and threw herself at the attacker, nearly dislodging his hold on Sully. The soldier turned his head and she recognized Sergeant O'Connor, Sully's nemesis from Ft. Lowell, but his face appeared as an evil caricature as he sneered at her to get away or he would take care of _her_ next.

She recoiled from his malevolent glare, helplessly wringing her hands as the hateful man continued to choke the life out of the man she loved.

Lina suddenly appeared at her side and the two of them began pummeling O'Connor's head and back, desperately trying to stop the inevitable, but he repeatedly threw them to the side.

Finally, with an evil laugh, the Sergeant sat back on his heels and grinned triumphantly.

Michaela ran forward and dropped to her knees next to her beloved. Sully's blue eyes were cold and sightless as they stared right through her. She drew in a large breath and reached for him, screaming...

"SULLY!" Michaela screeched, bolting straight up on the pallet as tears poured from her eyes, her hands reaching forward toward the images still very real in her mind.

Sully immediately awoke and bolted up, too, reaching to take her in his arms.

Near the fire, Wolf jolted awake, and raised his head.

"I'm here," Sully murmured, fighting against her panicked wrestling as she called his name again. "'Chaela!" Sully spoke firmly. "'Chaela wake up. It's okay, Ssshhh..." he soothed.

Her eyes opened and she recognized her surroundings, her mind mercifully coming back to the present as she gulped in large breaths of air, her whole body shaking in reaction.

Swallowing, she turned her head, seeing her beloved fine and healthy, his eyes very much alive and concerned about her.

"Oh Sully!" she choked, reaching to touch his face and neck to make sure, her fingers feeling the now familiar smooth scar. "You're not hurt?"

"No, I'm fine...you were dreamin'..." he reassured gently, one hand lovingly brushing damp hair back from her face.

"It was so horrible," she bleated, collapsing against him as his arms circled her fully, one hand cradling the back of her head as he pulled her against his bare chest.

"Sergeant O'Connor shot you...then he was strangling you...Lina and I tried to stop him...but he...he..."

"Sshh, s'okay..." he murmured softly. "I'm fine, it was just a dream," he murmured as he rocked her gently back and forth.

"It was so real..." she whined, overcome with emotion. "Oh Sully, I couldn't bear it if something happened to you...I couldn't live...without you," she admitted against his chest, reaching a hand up to swipe at the tears on her cheeks.

Sully was overwhelmed that the woman he loved had had such a nightmare it caused her to awaken screaming. He wanted more than anything in the world to protect her from all harm and fear – for the rest of their lives.

Suddenly, he couldn't wait another minute. The time was right. Hazily, he wondered why he had waited even this long...

Moving to his knees, he grasped her arms and turned her to face him, his heart hammering.

Kneeling, she gazed at him, unable to even try to hide the depth of her love from him. She had almost lost him twice to calamity, and once to stubbornness – and now again through the horror of a very real nightmare. Shaking with the lingering fear of the dream, but also with a wondrous feeling of anticipation, she sensed that something was about to happen – something momentous and wonderful. In the depths of her heart she somehow already knew, and it felt so very right. She was ready.

Reaching out and taking her face softly in his hands, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, the depth of his love clear in his eyes.

"I don't want ya to live without me. I want ya to be with me. I _need_ ya to be with me," he declared, and then took a breath continuing, "Michaela, I love you, and I would do _anything_ for you. I want us ta be together for the rest of our lives." Reaching for her hands, he cradled them in his and pressed them against his heart, the place where she had resided since practically the day they had met.

Gazing deep into her eyes in the soft light of the fire, he whispered, "Will you marry me?"

The simple beauty of his proposal nearly overwhelmed her. Her eyes filled with fresh tears as she gave him her answer, a whispered, "Yes."

He chuckled softly as if in relief and suddenly they were kissing, passionately, deeply, as if they couldn't get enough of each other.

Before long, they fell over together onto the furs, never breaking their kiss, drinking in one another's very essence. Her hands rifled through his hair as he kissed her wildly. He rolled on top of her, and she could feel the very insistent evidence of his desire and need pressing against her body. The thin material of his loincloth and the soft leather of her dress didn't leave much to the imagination. They both knew they should stop – but oh how each wished they were already married and free to express their love...

But they weren't married. Not yet.

Michaela broke their kiss and gasped as his lips passionately grazed her cheek and neck. They brushed beneath her ear as he whispered to her of his love and his overwhelming need for her.

But as he rose up to kiss her again, she reached to place gentle fingers over his lips. He kissed the digits instead, opening his eyes to gaze down at her as he slowly came back to his senses.

For long moments, they lay in each other's arms, just gazing rapturously into one another's eyes, overwhelming love and devotion laid bare for the other to see.

"I never knew I could be this happy," Michaela breathed, gazing up into his eyes as she lay under him. "I love you so much."

"And _I_ love _you_," he whispered, inexorably drawn to lean down for another kiss...but she stopped him again with gentle fingertips and a tiny shake of her head. The headiness of lying with him, the mesmerizing sound of the wind and rain just outside the buffalo hide next to their cozy pallet, was proving almost too much.

"We should try to get some sleep. We need to make it back to town first thing in the morning," she murmured teasingly.

Sully chuckled softly and shook his head, growling in mock frustration and smacking a loud kiss to her neck as she giggled at his display of aggravation.

"C'mere," he ordered playfully as he rolled her to her side facing away from him and gathered her against his body spoon-fashion. Gently sliding his arm under her head, he placed the other hand against her thigh. She smiled and reached down to entwine her fingers with his and rest their joined hands on her hip.

Quite content and totally in love, they were lulled to sleep by the rhythmic patter of rain on their buffalo skin cocoon, the now distant thunder, and the comfort and warmth of one another's presence.

All was well with their world...


	43. Chapter 43

CHAPTER 43

Michaela slowly became aware of her surroundings...soft fur beneath her left side...a warm, muscled arm under her cheek...the blanket poncho covering her shoulders...quiet stillness...peacefulness...utter tranquility. Slowly opening her eyes, she realized both of her hands were clasped in Sully's left hand, her fingers pressed gently against his lips in an endless kiss. She must have turned in her sleep during the night, and he, in his sleep, had snuggled with her as she settled, his head gently touching hers.

Now, she lay unmoving, relishing in her man's quiet, even breathing. Only her eyes moving, she allowed them to scan what they could see of him, his strong left arm now at rest, the top half of his chest, his wavy hair, thrown back over his shoulder, one small lock curling on his forehead, his firm jaw line and proud nose, black eyelashes closed in sleep over his magnificent blue eyes, his manly features, his strong brow and jaw...

Her eyes slowly roamed his face, now shadowy with dark morning stubble. She used to hate seeing a man in need of a shave, but on Sully...it seemed so rugged and masculine, so...sensual. The way a woman always sees her man after spending the night in his arms...

That thought made her blush. She had done just that and she wondered what their hosts would be thinking this morning. She wondered, _nay had a good idea_, what her sister would think...and Daniel...and Charlotte. But she and Sully knew the truth.

As if sensing her thoughts, Sully's eyes opened as he came awake, meeting hers across the mere inches of space between them. He smiled sleepily and gently squeezed her hands.

"Mornin'," he murmured, his voice husky.

She smiled in return. Pulling their combined hands toward her face, she kissed several of his fingers before returning the greeting. "Good morning."

His eyes twinkled with happiness. Smiling wider, he murmured, "Did I dream it...or did I propose last night?"

She smiled, her own eyes sparkling.

He noticed in the morning light the green one appeared more vibrantly green, and the brown one a deeper brown. The thought of knowing a detail like that – what her eyes looked like upon first awakening – sent an effervescent thrill coursing through his body.

She answered his tease. "It wasn't a dream. You _did_ propose."

"And you said, 'yes'," he grinned.

"Yep," she replied, teasingly using his vernacular.

He chuckled at that, thinking how much he cherished this woman. "I love you," he whispered.

"And _I_ love _you_."

Suddenly remembering an important detail, his eyes widened.

"Hey...don't go away, I've got somethin' for ya," he murmured.

Quickly letting go of her hands, he slid his arm from under her head and sat up, throwing the blanket aside and climbing over her body to lithely stand. She watched him curiously as he walked a few steps to the pole holding his necklaces and medicine bag.

Grabbing up the latter, he turned back and extended a hand, encouraging her to sit up on the bed. She acquiesced, running her other hand self-consciously over her tumbled hair she knew had to be greatly in need of a good brushing.

Sully opened the small leather pouch and dumped out some of the contents into the palm of his hand, immediately spotted the object he sought, and returned the rest to the bag.

Kneeling down to her level and reaching for her left hand, he smiled softly into her eyes.

"I meant ta have this ready when I asked ya...but it sorta happened all of a sudden," he apologized, and then with sweet ceremony, he revealed the object in his hand as he slipped it on her third finger.

"Sully," she breathed, her eyes widening. "An engagement ring?" she whispered, gazing at the unusual item.

He smiled and shrugged shyly.

"Well...not a real one. See...I made it..."

Her eyes widened even more as she examined the beautiful creation. It was made of incredibly thin strips of leather meticulously braided together and hardened to keep its shape. In the center was a perfectly shaped heart, about a quarter of an inch in diameter, made of carved bone and fastened by a hole painstakingly drilled through the back. It was polished to a creamy sheen. The ring fit her finger perfectly.

"You made this?" she asked in awe as she turned the ring on her finger, examining the workmanship. She had never seen anything so unique, nor so sweetly beautiful. She could tell he had put hours of work...and love...into its creation.

Her eyes misting, she looked up at him to see him watching her, almost as if holding his breath.

He nodded. "After I made my necklace, one day I was sittin' in here and it was rainin'...and I was thinkin' of you..." he paused, searching her eyes. "And rememberin' our chess games on those rainy days...and...well..." he paused again, suddenly shy.

"And?" she prompted with a sweet smile, reaching for his hand.

"And...I knew I wanted to ask ya to marry me...but I didn't have money for a ring...so I played around, experimentin' with tryin' ta make ya one. But," he added seriously, "as soon as I can, I'm gonna get ya a real one."

"Oh Sully, no – I love it," she murmured with sincerity as she leaned to throw her arms around his neck and sweetly kiss his lips. "Thank you."

He grinned in happy relief that she had responded so well to his gift. Truly, her reaction made the multiple failed attempts and hours he had put into the ring's creation worth all the trouble. Returning the kiss, he whispered against her lips, "You're welcome."

Their eyes locked for a moment, sheer delirious happiness flooding their beings, and then he slid one hand up, his fingers feather light against her chin as he guided her lips to his again. Their eyes fluttered shut as tingles of heady awareness bubbled to the surface and threatened to overwhelm all coherent thought. Warm lips melded together, arms rose to encompass one another as sighs of pleasure escaped...

Just then, voices from a group of women passing nearby on their way to the creek effectively served to cut the kiss short before it could escalate, and reminded them that they had to get ready to go back to town. With soft chuckles, the newly betrothed couple touched their foreheads together for a moment.

Then Sully grasped Michaela's left hand and brought it to his lips. "I'm the luckiest man in the world," he whispered, flashing her a grin as he watched her mouth form that cute little shy half smile he adored. The temptation to kiss her again was proving hard to resist, so with a playful groan, he resolutely stood to his feet and reached down to help her up so they could begin their preparations to return to town.

A few minutes later, Sully held back the door flap to allow Michaela to precede him exiting the dwelling, after they had dressed again, backs to each other, in their own nearly dry clothing.

Starry eyed, the two stood for a moment gazing at each other in the damp morning air, unaware of the approach of their two friends.

"All is well this morning?" Cloud Dancing asked with a knowing smile. From the matching expressions on their faces, the wise Indian had a pretty good idea what had transpired during the night.

Sully turned his gaze to his brother. "Yep. Everything's great."

"We thought we heard a scream..." Snowbird ventured, noticing the look the two exchanged.

Michaela met her new friend's eyes. "I...I had a nightmare." The Indian couple stood together watching their friends for a moment, the latter two repeatedly exchanging glances as if they had news that was bursting to get out. With a raised eyebrow, the medicine man silently queried his friend.

Sully grinned and reached for Michaela's hand, drawing it to his chest.

"Me and Michaela...we're gonna get married," he explained without preamble. Adding with a grin, "I mean, I asked her, and she said 'yes'." Michaela glanced down shyly, but was unable to keep the mirroring grin from her face.

Snowbird reacted immediately by stepping forward to hug her new friend. Michaela went into her arms gladly, relishing the favorable response, as thoughts of what she might encounter later in town had already begun to try and dampen her happiness.

"I am so happy for you! When will be your joining ceremony?"

"Oh, um...we haven't discussed that yet," Michaela replied as she stepped back, meeting eyes with Sully again as he grinned happily.

_Soon_, he was thinking, seeing no reason to delay.

_There is so much to do...to plan...I don't even know where to begin, _Michaela mused worriedly.

Thanking their hosts for all they had done, the two mounted their horses and set off for Colorado Springs. Sully's thoughts were centered on making plans for their immediate 'joining' as Snowbird put it, while Michaela's were concentrated on breaking the news to Marjorie, and ultimately her family in Boston.

There was much to be done...but they couldn't help the nearly delirious joy from bubbling to the surface each time they glanced at one another, reached to touch hands, or stretched across the horses for another quick kiss.

Now, their future was clear, their course set. Each silently determined that nothing would stand in the way of their happiness...

OOOOOOO

In his dash to the telegraph office to check the mail, Brian paused and almost tripped as he saw a large cavalry patrol riding into town. In his young life, he had only seen soldiers up close once, and to him it was a very exciting occasion. He immediately turned an about face and ran back inside the kitchen.

"Ma! Ma! The army's here! Come look!"

"Really? Where?" Colleen turned and asked, her hands in dishwater as she washed the breakfast dishes.

"Wonder what they're doin' here..." Matthew wondered, dropping a load of firewood next to the stove and heading toward the door Brian had just entered.

Turning his head at the doorway, Matthew looked back at his mother, noticing an odd expression on her face.

"Comin' Ma?"

Charlotte swallowed nervously and nodded, reaching for a towel on which to wipe her hands as she started toward the door. Grabbing a shawl off a peg, she threw it around her shoulders and stepped out onto the porch, wondering what a patrol of soldiers was doing riding into their town...and what that could ultimately mean for Sully and Michaela.

The commanding officer raised his arm to signal a halt to the troops. Stopping his horse adjacent to the boarding house porch, he forced a polite smile at Charlotte and tipped his hat.

"Good morning, Ma'am. I'm Colonel Chivington, Seventh Cavalry."

Charlotte gripped the shawl tightly at her neck, inclining her head politely. "Charlotte Cooper."

"This your boarding house, ma'am?"

"Yes it is..." Charlotte paused in controlled panic, her eyes darting to and fro, expecting her friends to come riding into town any moment.

"Good. I'm going to need several rooms for my officers and myself for the next few days. I've been ordered by Washington to set up a 'Treaty Council' with the Cheyenne from the reservation near here," he added, not bothering to hide his disgust at the assignment.

"Um, well...I only have a few rooms empty right now..." she hedged, racking her brain for a way to tell the officer to get lost.

"A few is better than nothing, ma'am. We've been on the trail for a week," he replied, trying to be polite, but silently grousing that a woman had no business running a boarding house. As he watched what he assumed were her children gathering around her, he wondered where her husband was, and why the man didn't keep his wife in her place. "My troops will bivouac in the meadow over there," he added.

She nodded, knowing she had no authority to stop him. By now, a small crowd of town's people had gathered, including Loren and Maude, Jake, and Hank with several of his 'girls.' The troopers didn't bother to hide their interest in the latter. Hank put a hand to Myra's back and gave her a push to indicate she should sashay her way down the line of horses. She flashed him an angry glance and moved out of his reach.

As the Colonel dismounted, he asked, "Does this town have a doctor? I have a few wounded men who need attention and our medic was killed."

"Well..." Charlotte began.

"We got Dr. Mike!" Brian chirped.

"We got a woman _says_ she's a doc, comes from back east," Jake interjected. "But I did most of the doc'trin before she came."

"And _you_ are, sir?" the colonel asked, giving Jake the once over.

"Jake Slicker. I own the barbershop," he supplied with pride, indicating the direction of his shop with a nod.

"_A barber_?" The Colonel returned, weighing his options. He detested women who thought they were as smart as men, but she might know a few things this barber didn't if she actually went to 'school' for it.

"Where might I find this woman doctor..."

Loren stepped up, eager to help. "Her clinic's right in there," he pointed to the center door, knowing that even from a few feet away no one could read the tiny shingle hanging to the right of it.

Jake, insulted, crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the officer, changing his mind about the free haircuts he was about to offer to the troops. He scowled at Hank when he heard the latter chuckling softly that Jake had been shoved aside.

"But she ain't here right now. She...should be back sometime today, though," Charlotte injected, feeling herself digging in deeper and deeper, and already planning to send Matthew out to intercept their friends.

Chivington sighed in frustration. Everything about this assignment had caused him nothing but aggravation and indigestion.

Addressing Charlotte, he requested politely, "Would you let her know we are in need of her services as soon as she returns?"

Charlotte nodded, hoping he couldn't hear her heart hammering. Her eyes scanned the waiting troops, wondering if Sully had served with any of them – and dearly hoping not. She HAD to get a message to him and Dr. Mike!

"Now, if you would be so kind as to show me the rooms you mentioned?" Chivington added, turning to snap an order at a subordinate to bring his belongings and take care of his horse.

"A'course, Colonel. Right this way," Charlotte responded, forcing a smile on what felt like a frozen face.

Before the colonel could step inside the door, however, Hank looked toward the end of the street and grinned mischievously, calling nonchalantly, "Speak 'a the devil. Here comes the doc now."

Every man in the platoon turned and looked expectantly toward the edge of town.

There, a woman sat on a horse staring their way as a longhaired man resembling a half-breed Indian yanked his horse to a stop beside her and snapped his fingers at what looked like a wolf...


	44. Chapter 44

CHAPTER 44

Michaela giggled as she whipped her head back around from glancing back and seeing Sully two lengths behind in their impromptu race. She could hear him urging his mount faster and giggled again, picturing him nearly slipping from the back of the saddle-less horse as he tried to pass her on a turn, resulting in her taking the lead.

The town buildings just ahead, she urged Flash a bit faster...then her eyes widened in fear and she pulled back on the reins, forcing the horse to a stop.

"Oh my God! Sully...the army!" she gasped as he quickly reined his horse to a stop at her side.

Sully's heart dropped to his stomach and he immediately broke out in a sweat. He'd had nightmares that they came for him, having found out about his ruse. It took every ounce of control he had to stop himself from wheeling his horse around and high-tailing it. He knew, however, that he couldn't possibly out run all of them. He knew also that if they were there for _him_, a court martial and execution would soon follow. Just then, to make matters worse, every man in the troop turned and looked their way. His heart almost stopped.

"What are we going to do?" Michaela whispered, near panic. She, too, wanted to kick her horse into motion and ride like the wind, _anywhere_.

"Um...I dunno...maybe I could make a break for it..." Sully murmured. "But if they've come for you, too...I know a few caves and places no one knows about...we could hide there..." he began, but paused as he saw Matthew trotting toward them. Sully exchanged glances with Michaela, bracing for the worst.

Within a few moments, Matthew reached their location.

"Hey Dr. Mike. There's a colonel gonna be stayin' at the boardin' house. He wants ta see ya, says he's got some hurt soldiers."

"Hurt soldiers?" Michaela echoed, her hands shaking. Her mouth felt numb and so dry she could barely swallow.

"Yeah. Says his name is Shiv'nton or somethin'. Wanted ta know if we had a doc."

She met Sully's eyes again.

"Chivington," Sully whispered. He'd heard of the man, but had never met him or served with him.

"Is that all they said, Matthew?" Michaela asked the teen.

"Yeah, why? C'mon, they're waitin' for ya," he encouraged, turning and heading back the way he had come.

Michaela reached out and grasped Sully's hand with her left one, her eye catching the precious ring he had put on her finger that morning.

"I'll...I'll go the back way to the livery...lay low...see what I can find out," he murmured, nervously glancing at the troopers, most of whom had turned back around, awaiting orders.

"Be careful," Michaela murmured, squeezing his hand, not wanting to let him go, but knowing it was for the best by far. They _couldn't_ take the chance that one of the troopers may recognize him.

Sully nodded and turned toward the left as Michaela nudged Flash forward, scrambling to put her brain in 'Physician' mode and not let any of the troopers, or officers, notice how frightened and nervous she was.

OOOOOOO

That evening, Michaela descended the stairs feeling almost as if she were going to her own execution. The stress of having the army under foot, a soldier or officer at her elbow seemingly every time she turned around, was more than a bit unnerving, to say the least.

She spent several hours tending to Colonel Chivington's wounded men, none of whom were badly injured, but still in need of medical attention, all the while extremely worried about Sully. She had not seen even a glimpse of him since he had ridden to the livery, but she kept reminding herself that if he was discovered and captured, the news would spread all over town in a matter of minutes. Truly, at the moment, worry for her own future if the army found out about her falsifying his death certificate was second in line to worry for her love's safety.

No one but Charlotte knew their secret – and they didn't know who they could trust. She was hoping he could just stay out of sight until the treaty counsel was over and the troops moved out, then they could get on with their lives.

Now, however, the matter at hand was getting through a dinner with officers, as well as Marjorie and Daniel, who would no doubt ask Sully's whereabouts. She hoped she could figure a way that his name would not need to be mentioned.

Pausing at the doorway to the dining room, she forced herself to stand up straight. Smoothing her burgundy dress with damp, quivering hands, she managed to at least appear calm as she glided into the shadowy room, lit only by two oil lamps on the dining table and two on the wall. The large table was already filled with four uniformed officers, plus Matthew, Colleen, Brian, Marjorie, Daniel, and Dorothy, but they had saved her a place beside Charlotte – directly across from the colonel.

"Pardon me for my tardiness," she murmured as she eased herself into the chair. Meeting eyes with her friend, Michaela managed a small smile when Charlotte laid a comforting hand over hers, letting her know she shared her worry and angst. It felt good to know she wasn't totally alone.

Marjorie, from the opposite end of the table, leaned around the children and glared at Michaela's profile. Having waited all day to have 'words' with her sister, but never being afforded the opportunity, dying to give her a 'piece of her mind', she asked pointedly, "So, Michaela, will your..._gentleman friend_, be joining us? Should we wait?" her voice sugary sweet, but with obvious hidden venom.

Michaela felt perspiration bead at the small of her back and she swallowed uncomfortably, acutely feeling every eye on her. She managed a smile and murmured, "No, he won't be joining us tonight," immensely relieved her sister had not spoken Sully's name.

She felt a little of the tension in Charlotte's grasp ease in relief, and as the head of the house, the older woman bowed her head to ask a quick blessing on the meal.

"Bless this food and those who prepared and served it and may all thy children everywhere be blessed with equal bounty. Thank you, Lord!"

"Amen," everyone at the table dutifully rejoined.

Bowls of meat and vegetables began to be passed from hand to hand. As the meal progressed, Michaela could feel Marjorie's daggered stares, but she refused to acknowledge them, concentrating instead on trying to force a few bites past the lump in her throat.

Daniel, sitting next to the last soldier, directly across from Marjorie, glanced from one sister to the other and back again, wondering what the volatile red head would do and what he could do to circumvent an explosion.

Dorothy noticed the varying emotions of the people at the table and decided to try and make a little polite conversation to hopefully ease the atmosphere.

"So, Captain Chivington, I understand you are here to hold a treaty council with the local tribe?" she asked politely.

The other officers, eyes wide, turned their heads to look at their commander. Chivington stopped eating and glared at her, thinking this was yet another woman who thought she could do a man's job – publish a newspaper – but didn't have the brains to know a captain from a colonel.

"_Colonel_ Chivington," he corrected, forcing a cold smile.

Dorothy immediately blushed at her huge faux pas. "Oh, I beg your pardon, Colonel. I meant no disrespect."

"None taken," he stiffly acquiesced, turning again to his food and ignoring her question.

She persisted. "The _treaty council_...does that mean the government is changing the terms of the treaty? I'm afraid I don't quite understand." At his look of aggravation at once again being interrupted from his meal, she added, "I'm writin' a story about your mission for my Gazette and I wanna to get the facts straight."

Obviously struggling to maintain a civil demeanor, he sneered at her as if she were addlebrained and totally incapable of understanding the 'facts'. "The only reason I'll be sitting out there in the _dirt_ is because Congress has been listening to a bunch of bleeding hearts who never laid _eyes_ on an Indian."

Unable to keep quiet at the tone in the man's voice, Michaela curled into a fist the hand resting in her lap and gently, but firmly, responded, "I believe their reasoning is that the _Indians_ were here first."

Daniel stifled a chuckle at her boldness. He knew her well enough to know her Irish temper was beginning to simmer, fueled by her profound sense of justice.

Chivington switched his eyes to Michaela. "They're standin' in the way of progress, _Miss_."

She chose to ignore his deliberate omission of the title she deserved, but instead asked sweetly, "Progress for whom, Sir?"

"EVERYBODY!" he erupted, causing everyone at the table to startle.

He glared at Michaela, his opinion of this so-called 'woman doctor' quickly lowering several notches as he added, "I am FULLY satisfied that to KILL the red rebels is the ONLY way to have peace and quiet."

The two stared at each other as their table mates collectively held their breath. Charlotte closed her eyes, expecting her friend to jump up out of her seat and blast the fool for such a ridiculous outburst – or at the very least reach over and slap the hateful sneer off his face.

Michaela's right hand was itching to do just that. However, she merely clamped her lips closed to bite back scathing words of rebuke. She could plainly see the seething hatred in the man's eyes and it chilled her to the very marrow of her bones. Malevolent loathing for the people she had quickly learned to love...for the adopted family of the man she was now engaged to marry...for the medicine man who had unselfishly saved her life and the lives of many of the townspeople. The hair on the back of her neck began to bristle and she was truly afraid for her friends' lives, knowing without a doubt it would not take much to provoke this man into forcibly bringing about his version of 'peace and quiet.'

Satisfied that he had 'shut her up', Chivington returned to his meal.

For Marjorie, the man's bluster and superior attitude had reminded her entirely too much of her ex-husband, prompting her to challenge, "Well my goodness, Colonel. I'm as much for progress as anyone, but the deliberate killing of human beings to achieve _peace and quiet_ as you put it, is a little extreme wouldn't you say?"

Chivington glared at her, his opinion of her obviously as low as the rest of the people with whom he was 'forced' to share a meal. "It has yet to be proven to me, _Miss,_ that these dog eating, scalp taking, _savages_ who rape and pillage at will are human beings at _all_."

"Well, Colonel...I've lived here for years and the Indians ain't never did me no harm. Never cause no trouble as far as I can see," Charlotte bravely, but calmly, joined the conversation.

The man turned his angry eyes on her. "The Indians you say never cause trouble have been pillaging farms and stealing livestock, burning barns and homes, and anything else they d*** well please, _Madam_. Just two days ago, a patrol from my regiment encountered some of these same hostiles, resulting in several of my men being wounded. But you can rest assured that we retaliated in kind," he added with a sneer.

Michaela blanched at this, wondering just who the man was referring to, and if Cloud Dancing had mentioned this to Sully during their visit.

Not wishing for further harsh words to be exchanged, Daniel took the opportunity of the ensuing silence to embark on a neutral subject, that of the army's high quality horseflesh.

The colonel, a man who considered himself an expert in the subject, gladly embarked on a lengthy discourse of how to tell a good horse from one that is not so good. Everyone else at the table remained silent and continued eating.

At the first opportunity, Michaela managed to excuse herself from the table.

OOOOOOO

Quietly opening the back door of the boarding house, Michaela stepped outside and wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders. She had no idea where Sully was, if he had stayed in town or gone elsewhere, and she had no one to trust to send on a search for him. The last thing he spoke to her mentioned heading toward the livery, so she set off for there. She just needed to see him, to find him and make sure for herself that he was all right.

He was now officially her fiancé, but due to the unexpected circumstances in town, she had been unable to share her deliriously happy news with _anyone, _not even Charlotte_._ She longed for his touch, his presence...his reassurance that they would, indeed, have a _future. _She needed him to convince her that the army suddenly appearing on their doorstep did not spell certain doom and gloom for either their future, or their very lives...

The night was dark with only a sliver of moon in the sky, the air cool, and every noise – including shouts of revelry from the saloon, made her nearly jump from nervousness as she scurried past the outhouse and picked her way around remodeling paraphernalia from Grace's new indoor café. Turning her head, she could hear sounds of nocturnal animals, and various familiar birdcalls, as well as noises from the soldiers camped in the meadow. She saw nothing moving, however, and she continued on. Reaching the back of the jail, she glanced around nervously, but seeing no one near, quickly edged along its sidewall and across the porch toward Robert E's.

She heard another shout of carousing, and could hear Hank's voice laughing and yelling, but couldn't make out the words. Slipping around the fence, she cautiously entered the open area of the livery. It looked deserted; the forge fire had been banked for the night, barn doors shut tight. A horse in the paddock snorted softly when it sensed her presence.

Disheartened and not knowing where else to look, she knew there was nothing to do but make her way back to the boarding house and spend a lonely night praying for her beloved to remain unharmed and undiscovered – and try to figure out what to do on the morrow.

Suddenly, she sensed a presence. Dreading another encounter with the military, she turned quickly in the darkness, and ran smack into a rock solid chest.

Her nerves stretched to the breaking point, she opened her mouth to let out a startled scream.


	45. Chapter 45

CHAPTER 45

A hand immediately covered her mouth, and a beloved and very familiar voice murmured, "Sshh, it's j'st me. I tried not to scare ya...didn't ya hear my dove call?"

"Oh Sully!" she whispered when he removed his hand. "I've been so worried!" she gasped, and he instantly folded her into a warm embrace, each one closing their eyes as they savored one another's touch and presence. The day they had just made it through seemed the equivalent of a week long.

"I'm alright, just been keepin' outta sight," he whispered.

"Sully, its so dangerous...what if one of the soldiers in the meadow recognizes you?" she protested, pulling back to try and see his eyes in the darkness. "Perhaps you should go back to your homestead and stay out of the army's way until all of this is over." Then as he wrapped his hands around her tiny waist, she lovingly took his beads and medicine bag in her hands, adding, "That Colonel Chivington frightens me...he feels such malevolence toward the Indians. I truly feel it wouldn't take much provocation for him to order..."

"Yer right," Sully interrupted, gently grasping one of her hands and raising it to his lips. "Cloud Dancin' told me when we were there yesterday that an army patrol wiped out a small village of women and children about a day's ride from here."

"Oh Sully! How terrible!" Michaela breathed, a shudder of horror fissuring down her spine as she remembered the colonel gloating about recent retaliation against _hostiles_.

"Burned it to the ground – cause the dog soldiers had been there..." Sully continued, equally horrified as he imagined the carnage.

"Dog soldiers?" Michaela murmured.

"Yeah, bands of renegades from different tribes. They hate whites. But Black Kettle don't hold with their ways, he wants peace...and Cloud Dancin' says the dog soldiers are feedin' the people. The army won't let the warriors on the reservations go far enough to get game anymore – the people are goin' hungry!" he added with quiet force.

Pausing, he took in a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. His months living with his new family had been some of the happiest, most carefree days of his life. His family in New York was long dead, and then his wife and baby died. Cloud Dancing and the others in Black Kettle's tribe were the closest thing to family he had...except for Michaela.

But now the army had descended upon them, and it was anybody's guess as to how it would all turn out. He shook his head and leaned his forehead against hers, whispering, "It's all such a mess."

"Something must be done to help them...but the _army_, Sully, please be careful," Michaela murmured, drawing back a bit to meet his eyes...

"Alright you two, what's goin' on?" asked a voice from over Sully's right shoulder.

Instantly on the defense, Sully turned quickly and pushed Michaela behind him, coming face to face with Daniel.

The two long time friends stood searching each other's countenances in the shadowy darkness, the only light a crescent moon. Minutes seemed to tick by.

Finally Daniel cocked his head to one side and murmured one word.

"Shoal."

Michaela moved from behind Sully and stood at his side, looking first from one man to the other, slightly nonplussed. Sully hadn't moved, but she could see a muscle flex in his jaw.

"C'mon, Sully," Daniel encouraged. "Remember what I told ya when you was carrin' me on your back on that long road from Shoal Creek to Hixson? I owe ya. I'll always be ya friend. Tell me what's goin' on here," he urged softly.

"You paid that debt in that minin' camp," Sully argued gently. "Sides..." he paused, glancing at Michaela and then back at Daniel. "None 'a that seemed ta _matter_ when you was tryin' to win Michaela's hand."

Daniel winced at this and looked down at his shoes, then lifted his eyes and shrugged.

"She's a special lady. You know that, Sully. But I know now I never stood a chance with her," he added with a tiny grin.

Michaela smiled at his compliment and moved closer to Sully, slipping her hand in his. He turned his face toward her, still fighting a tinge of leftover jealousy from seeing his best friend and the woman he loved enjoying one another's company...

"Sully?" she murmured.

After several moments, his lips finally curled into a tiny smile and he lifted one hand to softly cup her face for a brief second. Then he glanced around and murmured, "Let's talk in the barn," turning and leading the way. They quickly crossed behind the banked forge and slipped inside Robert E's massive stable.

Finding and lighting a lamp Sully turned to his friend, seeing in the taller man's eyes nothing but concern. Knowing Sully the way he did, Daniel could easily tell his friend was on edge about something. He was strung tighter than a bow fiddle.

For the next few minutes Sully spoke in low tones, explaining the mess to his long time friend, including the incident that had started the process. Daniel was completely sympathetic and totally understood Sully's reasoning of why he had made the choices as he did, and his admiration for Michaela's bravery upped a few more notches as he was amazed at her substantial part in the plan. He was also acutely aware that if the wrong people were made privy to the information, both of his friends could receive life in prison for treason and desertion, if not worse.

"Whew...what a mess," he murmured, running a hand back through his hair.

"Yes," Michaela agreed. "But all we have to do is keep Sully hidden until they are gone."

They spent the next few minutes discussing several scenarios, with Sully perched on a bale of hay silently, thinking.

Finally, he interjected, "Michaela, I can't just leave 'em to fend for themselves at that treaty council. Who knows what kind 'a tricks Chivington's plannin'."

"But Sully! You haven't seen all of the soldiers in the meadow yet. There could be..."

"No, hold on a minute...I've got an idea," Daniel interrupted.

The two turned their attention to him, having no clue what he was about to say...

OOOOOOO

The next afternoon, Daniel, Michaela, Charlotte, and Dorothy made their way across the bridge toward the area set aside for the treaty council.

"Oh my, this is so excitin'!" Dorothy gushed, eager about the article she planned to write about the event.

The other three exchanged nervous glances, hoping the idea Daniel had suggested would work – without any hitches. Arriving at the treaty grounds, Daniel escorted the ladies over to some hay bales at the side and they made themselves comfortable, others from the town filtering in as well.

Several minutes later, a large group of Indians emerged from the tree line, wearing ceremonial dress; even their horses were decorated. The soldiers watched cautiously as they passed through the ranks. Chief Little Raven of the Arapaho nation wore an elaborate feathered headdress and decorative buckskin jacket and leggings. The great chief Black Kettle rode regally upon his horse, the top half of his face painted its customary red. Draped over his shoulder was the American flag given to him by President Lincoln. Beside him were Cloud Dancing, his son Walks On Clouds, and several other dignitaries of the tribe.

Michaela swallowed nervously as she watched their approach.

They rode up near the table and dismounted as Colonel Chivington and several of his aides grudgingly stood to show respect. Chivington made the sign for greeting, which both Black Kettle and Little Raven returned. Then the colonel began to try and converse in sign, haltingly, but Black Kettle held up his hand to interrupt.

Through sign language, he informed the colonel that one of their tribe would interpret for them. Then turning, he spoke to a man within the group of Indians.

"Otá'taveaénohe [Blue Hawk]," the chief motioned for him.

The group parted and a man stepped forward. His shoulder-length hair was wavy, not straight like the other Indians, and slicked back with some kind of ointment that made it appear darker. Feathers were attached to tightly braided strands on each side of his head. A large band of shiny black paint covering from his nose to his hairline obscured the top half of his face. He wore the traditional leggings and loincloth, plus an elaborate buckskin shirt, beads, and medicine pouch.

The man stepped up to the table, his face humbly cast down.

Chivington gave him the once over. "You savvy English?"

"I do," the man replied with a slight nod.

"How are you called?"

"Blue Hawk," came his answer, raising his face to meet the colonel's gaze.

The colonel found himself gazing back into the bluest pair of eyes he'd ever seen on _any_ man, much less on an Indian. He instantly deduced that the man was some kind of half-breed, and the thought made him grimace in disgust. _Probably the result of the rape of an unwilling white captive,_ he sneered silently.

Chivington sighed and motioned for the chiefs to take seats, but they shook their heads and crossed their arms over their chests.

"Well, let's get started, then," he groused, wanting to just get the business over with and get back to Washington.

Blue Hawk nodded and took his place next to Black Kettle, then turned his head and looked toward the crowd of gawkers.

His eyes met Michaela's and she felt her stomach flutter nervously, but gave a tiny encouraging nod, feeling Charlotte reach for and grasp her hand under the folds of their skirts.

Dorothy gasped softly. "Oh my...that Indian has the bluest eyes I've ever seen..." The last words died on her lips as something about the man seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Staring at his profile as he turned back around, she wondered about his background, making a mental note to try and found out at another time.

Michaela, dreading the possibility that Dorothy may have recognized Sully, could only nod. Nervousness having rendered speech impossible, she watched as the man she loved began to act out what would have to be the greatest performance of his life.

OOOOOOO

Sully, as Blue Hawk, read the treaty details printed on a parchment scroll, before turning to Black Kettle and Cloud Dancing. In a combination of sign and Cheyenne, he related, "This says they want to change the reservation boundaries from the land between the Arkansas and Cimarron rivers, north from Buffalo Creek, to the land that is south of the Kansas state line."

Cloud Dancing's eyes flashed angrily, but he held his tongue, allowing his chief to reply.

Black Kettle drew himself up to his full height, highly insulted. In a similar mixture of Cheyenne and sign, he argued, "That is less than half of the treaty of two summers ago. Why is the great chief in Washington doing this to us? Where shall we hunt? How will we take care of our families? Ask him!"

Sully nodded and turned to the colonel, speaking in halting English. "Black Kettle ask why great chief in Washington want cut our land in half. He ask how shall our warriors hunt and care for our families."

The colonel ground his teeth together, thoroughly frustrated that the ignorant savages had brought along this half-breed who was disrupting what should have been a simple matter of getting the so-called 'chiefs' of the Cheyenne and Arapaho to make their mark on the agreement. He cleared his throat.

"If you will read further, Mr. Blue Hawk, this treaty allows the tribes to hunt north of the Arkansas River for as long as the buffalo remain – provided they stay away from the white settlements and roads. Any Indian violating the terms of the agreement, however, will automatically render it null and void, and the government will have no choice but to retaliate."

Sully's eyes flashed blue fire. He knew exactly what the 'fat cats' in Washington planned, but he strove to appear as calm as he could. "Black Kettle and other chiefs have no control over dog soldiers. What if it one of _them_?"

Chivington smiled apologetically, but his eyes were cold and evil. "I'm afraid Congress cannot differentiate between a 'dog soldier' and any other Indian. After all – they all look alike," he answered with quiet sarcasm.

Sully bit back a scathing retort that all swindlers and thieves _smelled_ alike, replying instead, "This not fair. They cannot agree to this."

The colonel leaned forward, his eyes locked with Sully's. "If they do not, I assure you, there will be he** to pay." From his expression, Sully knew the thought of that brought the disgusting man a great deal of pleasure.

Sully ground his teeth in frustration as he stared back at the colonel, ashamed clear down to the marrow of his bones that he had ever been one of _them_, a member of the United States Cavalry assigned to 'rid the land of the red man who stands in the way of progress.'

He felt Black Kettle tugging on his sleeve for the translation, and he swallowed his anger and turned to the man. His eyes briefly met Cloud Dancing's, noting an anger that matched his own, then met eyes with the chief again. In Cheyenne, he murmured, "You'll be allowed to hunt north of the Arkansas, but if even one brave goes near a white settlement or road – even a dog soldier...the army will retaliate."

Black Kettle pressed his lips together in frustration and drew in a deep breath, letting it out in a huff. He turned to Cloud Dancing and Chief Little Raven, signing that they needed to discuss this privately.

Colonel Chivington, able to read sign, offered, "Tell them I'll give them one hour to talk it over, but then I'll expect them back at the table – and ready to sign."

Sully threw a heated glance over his shoulder at the hateful man, and then related his message to the chiefs. They nodded angrily and began moving toward an open area in the meadow, away from the army's tents.

Cloud Dancing motioned for Sully to wait near the table and he nodded, glancing toward Michaela, and seeing her concern for him _and_ for the Indians plain in her eyes.

Dorothy had taken the opportunity to seek out the colonel for a quote for her story, so Charlotte called to Sully, beckoning him over.

"Sir, would you mind if we asked you some questions?"

He glanced around, and then stepped over to where they were, keeping his head down in case any townspeople looked their way.

"It's nice ta meet ya, Mr. _Blue Hawk_. Ya look mighty fine," Daniel joked softly in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. The spectators knew, of course, that the talks were not progressing to the best interests of the Indians.

"Yes, you do," Michaela agreed. "But anyone that knows you and sees you up close would recognize you, I'm afraid. Earlier, my heart nearly stopped when Dorothy wouldn't stop staring at you," Michaela added softly, wishing she could feel Sully's arms around her to alleviate some of the raging nerves in her stomach.

He smiled and looked around, murmuring wryly, "Guess I'll just have ta not let anybody get too close, then, huh?"

"It don't sound like the talks are goin' too good..." Daniel prompted, watching as his friend clamped his teeth in frustration.

"They _ain't_. Chivington's threatenin' war unless the tribes agree to surrender to land near the Kansas border. It's less than half the land they're on now, and there ain't enough game left there for 'em to make it. He says they've gotta agree not to leave the reservation to hunt." Sully paused and glanced over at his Cheyenne friends, deep in an animated and heated discussion. Shaking his head sadly, he added, "The last thing Black Kettle wants ta do is fight, but I don't see how they can agree ta this..."

"Why is our government _doing_ this?" Michaela murmured worriedly as she, too, watched the irate body language of their Indian friends.

Sully sneered furiously, murmuring under his breath, "Chivington's tryin' to impress the brass back in Washington. Get 'em to grant statehood – so he can become the first governor."

"But that's hardly a negotiation!"

"This just ain't right. The land out here's big enough for all of us ta live together peaceably," Charlotte groused, adding, "They should try ta work somethin' out."

His eyes narrowed in disgust over the whole sordid affair and met hers. "Chivington didn't come to barter – he come to steal."

Charlotte nodded. Daniel clamped his hands on his hips and looked around at the treaty area, thinking this 'treaty' was the biggest hoax he'd ever witnessed.

Sully turned his gaze back to Michaela. Their eyes held, Michaela wishing there was something she could say or do, but there wasn't anything. She was powerless – they all were – to stop what seemed the inevitable. She didn't see how things could get much _worse_, the future boding with gloom for their Indian friends.

Then something over Sully's left shoulder caught her attention. When she shifted her gaze, her eyes widened in shock and dread.

Things just got worse.

All of the color immediately drained from her face and she whispered in near panic, "Oh no, Sully...don't turn around!"


	46. Chapter 46

_AN: I want to take a moment to thank those who have left reviews without signing in – I appreciate positive, encouraging reviews more than you know. Reviews that let me know you are enjoying it, and especially what you enjoy about it, are what keep me writing. So thanks! _

CHAPTER 46

_Sergeant O'Connor. _

Of all the men Sully had served with during his two years in the army who could identify him, he was by far the most dangerous. And that nightmare Michaela had suffered just two nights previous only made his appearing all the more ominous. Now here he was, riding into town with a small patrol of troopers.

Although outwardly she appeared calm, inside Michaela was frantic, her heart pounding within her chest. They simply _had_ to come up with some way to make sure the sergeant did not come near the treaty table and the elusive _Blue Hawk. _

Already Michaela had heard whispers among the townspeople, wondering who the blue eyed, half-breed warrior was, and hoping to get a good look at him. Many were saying they wanted to see his eyes for themselves, never having encountered a blue-eyed Indian before. Michaela was petrified that the sergeant would hear the murmurings and want to come see for himself.

Glancing toward the bridge in her search for a distraction, Michaela froze, cold dread creeping up her spine. Coming their way with a determined stride was her sister Marjorie_. Oh no... Marjorie will shout it to the heavens that Sully is masquerading as an Indian. She'll think it's amusing!_

Wide-eyed, Michaela turned back to Sully, noting the absolute primal fear in his eyes as he surreptitiously watched the sergeant. He knew if they came face to face, the sergeant would recognize him instantly, _and_ that after their last encounter and Sully having him transferred, his nemesis would delight in turning him in and seeing him court-martialed. _Delight_? Sully thought wryly. _He'll ask to be the lead shot on the firin' squad! _

Sully knew that as a trained soldier, O'Connor would investigate anything that seemed suspicious, especially with all of the Indians 'under foot', and would not hesitate to get to the bottom of the mysterious identity of the heretofore unknown half-breed 'Blue Hawk.'

Swallowing back the mountain of fear, he took control of his emotions, especially in light of Michaela's alarm. Unable to touch and comfort her due to their need for secrecy, he let his eyes do the soothing. Staring into hers, he murmured, "It'll be okay. Don't worry. Jus'...try ta stay calm..."

She clamped her teeth on her lip and nodded, glancing at Charlotte and Daniel as they watched the infamous cavalryman ride over to report to his commanding officer...

OOOOOOO

O'Connor brought his horse to a halt and dismounted, snapping a crisp salute to his Colonel Chivington.

The colonel returned the salute, sending the private he had been issuing orders to on his way.

"Sergeant, were you successful?"

"Partly sir," O'Connor admitted. "The village is gone from the map, like you ordered, but some of the braves escaped. We tracked 'em for two days, but lost the trail in the hills on the other side of the Peak."

The colonel released a frustrated snort and shook his head. "Two to one they're hiding within this group of 'dignitaries' with which I've been forced to deal. I wouldn't be surprised if the blue eyed _Blue Hawk_ was even involved, he looks at me with such hatred," he added, turning to look back toward the treaty area and noticing the half breed conversing with the woman doctor, the boarding house proprietor, and the man named Simon. His eyes narrowed as he watched their exchange.

"Blue eyed Indian, sir?" O'Connor asked, turning to look as well. "I've never seen a blue eyed Indian..."

"My guess is he's some sort of half breed. He can speak and read English, and he's been translating for the 'chiefs' – and holding up the process of them putting their marks on the paperwork," he practically spat. "My patience is wearing thin. All I want is to have this business over with so that I can return to Washington."

O'Connor continued to stare at the warrior. Something about his stance seemed familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn't place why. Perhaps they had met in battle somewhere?

For the next few minutes, O'Connor gave his commander a detailed report of the patrol's activities, in between numerous interruptions of soldiers coming and going and reporting to the colonel. Finally, curiosity about to drive him crazy, O'Connor asked, "Sir, would it be alright if I..." he indicated the treaty grounds.

"Yes, Sergeant, by all means," the colonel acquiesced with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Thank you, sir," O'Connor replied, saluting before turning to stride purposely toward the treaty area.

OOOOOOO

Turning again to view the progress of her sister's approach, and knowing she had to try and do _something_ to alleviate the situation, Michaela decided to intercept her, and took off in her direction.

"Michaela! I wish to speak with you!" Marjorie groused as she neared her sister.

"Marjorie," Michaela began, but the red head cut her off as they came face to face.

"I have been here for _three_ days and you have managed to make yourself scarce for two. You, little sister, are out of control. Mother would be beside herself!" she raged, her mouth puckered disapprovingly. "As your older sister, I feel it my duty to tell you that you need to remember your _upbringing_. You're a Quinn, of the _Boston_ Quinns, a civilized woman, and you were taught better than to go off alone with a man and spend the night with him..."

Michaela's nerves were reaching the fraying point and she interrupted with a raised hand. "_Marjorie_, that is _enough_! To begin with, I am not 'out of control', and 'spending the night' at the reservation was an accident neither of us foresaw. He was a perfect gentleman, I might add. And for your information, I very much 'remember my upbringing'," she snapped, the stress of the past thirty-six hours taking its toll. "Now _please_... just go back to the boarding house and I will join you later."

Unaccustomed to being rebuked by her younger sister – and now this was the second time it had happened – Marjorie clamped her mouth shut and locked eyes with her sibling. It was then that the near panic in her sister's eyes registered, and she noticed Michaela seemed to be unduly interested in the goings on of the army personnel around them.

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Michaela...what is going on? And don't tell me '_nothing'_. I can plainly see that you are upset about something, to say the _least_." Pausing, she looked around, and added, her voice louder, "And where is your Mr. Sully? I thought he was friends with the Indians. Shouldn't he _be_ here, helping or something?"

"Sshh! Keep your voice down!" Michaela hissed, turning her head quickly to see if anyone may have overheard. Thankfully no one did, but she racked her brain for some way to get Marjorie away from there. Turning toward the treaty area, she met Daniel's gaze, her eyes imploring him for help.

Marjorie softened a little and uncrossed her arms, suddenly sensitive to what she thought was the problem. "Oh Michaela...did you have a fight? Well, he's obviously unreliable since he isn't here where he is needed, and there are plenty of eligible men around. I'm sure you'll find..."

At the end of her rope and thoroughly out of patience with her sister, Michaela shook her head and raised a hand again. "_Stop. _You don't know what you're talking about. We did _not_ have a fight, and he's more than an _eligible_ man – he's my _fiancé_!" she added, the words tumbling out on their own volition.

Just then, Daniel joined the ladies, tipping his hat at the open mouthed red head.

The instant the words were out of her mouth, Michaela's eyes widened and she literally clamped her left hand over her lips. Marjorie stared at her sister's face, and the 'ring' on her hand, for once speechless. Shocked, she watched as her sister's eyes filled with tears. _Something must be terribly wrong,_ Marjorie calculated, feeling decidedly guilty that she had marched out there to give her sister a piece of her mind when the poor girl was obviously at her wits end.

Taking charge, Daniel murmured, "I think this discussion oughta take place in private." Grasping both ladies by the arm, he guided them several yards out of the main traffic flow of pedestrians and horses, and over to the far side of an empty wagon.

Thoroughly confused and wondering what Mr. Simon had to do with all of this, Marjorie asked, albeit in her most 'matronly' voice, "Michaela – tell me."

Michaela dabbed at her eyes and met Daniel's gaze. Marjorie didn't miss the look of secrecy passing between her sister and her 'fiancé's' friend.

Growing concerned, she murmured, "Michaela...I am your sister for heaven's sake. I would never do anything to hurt you. _Please_ believe me."

Michaela looked into her sister's eyes and saw her as she never had before. Gone was the brash bravado. Perhaps it was the trauma of her husband's betrayal, or just the fact that Marjorie had matured some, but suddenly Michaela felt as if she could trust her as she would have trusted Rebecca had she been there instead.

Making her decision, the doctor first swore her sister to secrecy, and then began to fill her in on the particulars as quickly as possible, making sure she understood the reason Sully absolutely could not stay in the army a moment longer, and all that she had done to help him. To say the least, Marjorie was rendered speechless by the tale. Daniel kept vigil that no one came near their position. Then, taking her sister's hands, Michaela explained about the sergeant and the imminent danger he represented to them both as she turned and pointed out the odious man.

Lastly, she turned and carefully indicated where Sully was standing, next to Cloud Dancing – and at that moment staring back at them.

"Good heavens, my little sister, embroiled in such treasonous affairs. Wonders never cease," Marjorie teased with her customary dry humor.

Then movement caught Daniel's eye and he glanced across the meadow to see Sergeant O'Connor walking toward the treaty area. Michaela felt him tense and followed his gaze as icy dread once again clawed at her back.

"Oh no..." she breathed, her gaze shifting from the sergeant to Sully to Daniel. "We simply MUST do something to stop him!" she whispered urgently. "If we can keep him occupied until the council ends and the Indians ride away..."

Marjorie let out a playful chuckle, ripe for the challenge. Smoothing her dress and reaching up to check the pins securing the smart little hat to her head, she pushed between her two companions and murmured, "_I'll_ handle him."

Before Michaela could register this comment, her bold as brass sister was striding on a direct intercept course with the gruff soldier. Michaela, alarmed, belatedly hissed, "Marjorie, no! Come back here!" afraid what her sister would blurt out and regretting her decision to confide in the somewhat impetuous redhead.

She turned imploring eyes to Daniel, but he grasped her hand and whispered, "No, it's alright...give her a chance."

As Marjorie neared the sergeant, the effervescent woman steeled herself for the encounter, as even from three feet away, she could tell that he was in definite need of a bath and shave after traveling for days. Thinking quickly, she caught his eye and smiled. Then waiting until he deemed to return the smile and tip his cap, murmuring, "Ma'am," she affected a very realistic stumble, allowing herself to tumble to the ground. _Well...so much for this dress, _she mused wryly.

"Oh my! Oh dear!" she squealed, grasping her ankle and gazing up at him helplessly.

"You alright, ma'am?" he asked, reaching one hand down to help her up.

"Oh! Oh I think I may have broken my ankle!" Marjorie groaned, her performance flawless. So much so that Michaela, more than sixty feet away, for a split second nearly came running to her sister's aid, but Daniel grasped her arm and held her back. He grinned and shook his head as he watched the antics of the redheaded vixen that was fast capturing his heart.

The sergeant looked around, not sure what he should do, so Marjorie reached to grab one of his hands.

"Please! Please help me to the clinic in town! I'm certain I couldn't walk a step," she whined pathetically.

"Uh...um...well," the sergeant stuttered, reaching both hands under her arms to try and lift her. The attempt was quite comical as she tried to 'clumsily' assist. She allowed him to get her to a standing position, but then fell helplessly into his arms with a soft squeal. "Oh, oh dear, it hurts so badly!"

With the woman in his arms and no one near enough to call for assistance, the scruffy sergeant reluctantly acquiesced and leaned to pick her up the rest of the way.

"Where did you want me to take you?" he asked as she dabbed at 'tears' with a perfumed hanky, which she also used surreptitiously to mask his sweaty odor.

"There is a clinic...at the boarding house in town," she pointed toward the cluster of buildings on the other side of the creek.

Sighing in frustration, O'Connor cast a look at the treaty grounds, and then scowling, began the walk with the woman in his arms, who squealed softly every few feet that he needed to slow down as the jarring caused more pain.

Michaela and Daniel ventured out from behind the wagon and smiled as Marjorie turned her head, sending them a tiny wave and a jolly wink behind the sergeant's back as she was carried away.

OOOOOOOO

Black Kettle pointedly stepped back from the table, Cloud Dancing and Sully, as well as Chief Little Raven, exchanging frustrated and livid glances at each other and the officers at the table regarding the outcome of the exchange.

Black Kettle took hold of the ceremonial peace pipe he'd had made for the occasion and his eyes locked with the colonel, shaking it in his direction. In disgust, he raised it up, quickly breaking it in two across his raised knee and tossing the broken pieces at the colonel's feet. Then turning and signaling his braves, he vaulted onto his horse, the other Indians following suit.

Sully hung back for a moment, staring angrily into the colonel's eyes before allowing his gaze to disparagingly rake the man from head to foot, and then he too crossed to his horse and vaulted up on its back.

"Come back here!" the colonel yelled in exasperation, his chair falling over backward as he abruptly shot to his feet. "You have not signed..." but the rest of his words were cut off as the Indians simultaneously kicked their horses into a gallop amid blood curdling, angry shouts.

Sully paused for just a second as he met Michaela's worried gaze, then yanked on his horse's reins and wheeled him around, emitting a piercing yell of absolute frustration as he disappeared into the woods with his compatriots.

The treaty council had ended – in a stalemate.


	47. Chapter 47

CHAPTER 47

Michaela glanced at Charlotte and Marjorie as she passed a plate of fried chicken to Colleen, pausing to listen to the sound of horses' hooves trotting past the building on their way out of town. The doctor momentarily closed her eyes in relief. It had been a long three days.

As she felt Colleen take the plate from her hand, she opened her eyes again and met Charlotte's gaze, her friend's relief evident on her countenance.

"Good riddance," the landlord murmured. Michaela nodded in agreement.

"I couldn't agree more," Marjorie added crisply.

Images and words played quickly through Michaela's mind as she resumed the mundane task of trying to eat supper – hurrying to the clinic to 'rescue' her sister after the Indians had left the treaty table in anger...facing Sergeant O'Connor's sneering disgust as he realized she was the "M. Quinn" named on the plaque next to the door...Daniel giving the man a dressing down for his uncalled for remarks.

The sergeant had been livid when he learned he had missed the treaty council – and the chance to view the mysterious 'Blue Hawk.' The four – Charlotte, Daniel, Michaela, and Marjorie – suffered his barely controlled anger before he stalked away to speak to his commanding officer.

Now on the evening of the third day after they had first ridden into town, the army was finally leaving. For Michaela, it had been an excruciatingly long wait.

The outer door to the boarding house opened and the women heard footsteps entering the hall and then the dining room, each one turning their heads in welcome.

"They're gone," Daniel offered as he took a place next to Marjorie. He flashed her a smile and she nodded, and then he met eyes with Michaela. "Includin' O'Connor."

She smiled also, though still a tad bit worried as she murmured, "That's a relief."

Matthew and Brian followed, as well as Dorothy, stuffing her pencil into the wire binding of her notebook as she sat down at the table.

"Well, I for one am glad that rude colonel is gone. And I'm gonna make sure everyone knows what the government is tryin' ta do to the Indians," she commented, shaking her head in disgust.

"Boy, that colonel's horse sure is pretty," Brian piped up, picturing the white stallion as he reached for the plate of chicken.

"They all had good horses," Matthew offered. "Robert E. said he's not seen horse flesh that good in a while."

"Daniel...do you think they'll be back?" Michaela murmured, her eyes searching his.

He shrugged and accepted a bowl of potatoes from Marjorie. "Don't know...but if they do, it won't be soon. Heard Chivington tell Mr. Bray that he was headed ta Washington ta make a report on the Indians 'refusin' ta sign the treaty changes. That should take awhile."

Michaela nodded, her eyes shifting down to her plate as she imagined future run-ins with the detestable colonel.

After a few minutes of conversation with the children talking about the excitement of having a large contingent of soldiers camped nearly at their back door for three days, Charlotte reached over and comfortingly laid her hand over Michaela's.

"I'm sure he's all right, Dr. Mike. If anybody can take care 'a themselves, it's Sully."

Michaela managed a smile and a nod for her friend.

"She's right, ya know," agreed a familiar voice from the doorway.

Michaela gasped softly and turned her head to meet Sully's sparkling eyes. He had changed back into his normal clothing – buckskins and blue striped shirt with beads and medicine pouch around his neck - having removed the black 'Blue Hawk' paint, and washed the ointment out of his hair. His moccasin-clad feet had been silent on the wooden floors of the hallway after he had slipped in the back door.

"Sully!" Michaela squealed softly in relief, springing from her seat and rounding the table to slip into his embrace. His arms wrapped around her tightly, pressing her to his chest as they clung together for a moment in the sheer joy of being together again – and safe from threat.

Dorothy and Charlotte smiled fondly, the kids grinning at and elbowing each other as they watched the adults' reunion.

Marjorie and Daniel watched with differing emotions. She with a touch of envy that her sister had found a man who seemed to be her soul mate, though Marjorie herself would have vehemently denied such a phenomenon existed – and Daniel in true happiness that his friend had once again found true love.

"Well, come on and sit down here, Sully," Charlotte commanded with a grin. "Don't wanna see none 'a this here food goin' ta waste," she added with a wink. Colleen quickly took her plate and moved to the other side of the table so that Sully could take the seat next to Michaela. The two disengaged with self-conscious chuckles.

"Where you been, Sully? There was lots 'a army men here – you just missed 'em!" Brian gushed as he gazed at his idol. Sully paused to gentlemanly assist Michaela into her seat and then took his own, nodding his thanks to Matthew for passing the plate of chicken. He felt starved, having eaten very little over the last three days.

"I saw 'em, Brian," he answered, meeting eyes with Michaela to let her know he had carefully watched them leave before making his presence known in the town.

"Yes...where _were_ you, Sully?" Dorothy queried.

He shrugged uncomfortably and took up his fork, murmuring, "I had some business ta take care of."

As Dorothy gazed down the table at him, for a split second, the memory of the half-breed Indian, Blue Hawk, flashed in her mind. Surely she would have recognized if he and Sully were one and the same – but being such open friends with the Indians, she could see no need of him participating in such a masquerade. Thankfully, the conversation at the table changed and rerouted her thoughts...

"Well I, for one, am thoroughly glad to see them go – especially that disgusting Sergeant O'Connor," Marjorie chimed in. "Do you know that he actually had the audacity to brag of his pleasure in massacring a village several days' ride from here, and how he had successfully prevented quite a few – in his words – _nits from growing into lice?"_ she shuddered at the memory. "What kind of man would do such a thing...and find pleasure in it?"

Michaela shook her head in disgust. "He's a horrible man, but I'm happy to say that not all of the army's officers feel that way." She paused, smiling lovingly at the man to her left. "In my opinion, it is absolutely unforgiveable to murder an innocent child," she continued. "And then to imagine a whole village of women and children being massacred...it is simply unconscionable."

"I agree. I say any man' does that – soldier or not – they should string him up from the nearest tree," Charlotte agreed, passing a basket of rolls to Matthew.

"Yeah well, the problem is officers like that Colonel Chivington don't even consider Indians to be _human_." Daniel pointed out, reaching to take a sip of his coffee.

"Yes...if only every army officer could spend some time at their camp – get to know them. It would make such a difference in regard to relations between the Cheyenne and the government," Michaela mused as she thought about her idyllic day at the reservation with their friends. "Don't you think so, Sully?" she asked, turning to her suddenly silent fiancé.

Jarred from his thoughts, he nodded and managed a whispered, "Yeah."

The adults at the table glanced at the man, wondering at his sudden change of demeanor. But when he quietly went back to eating his dinner, the adults chalked it up to the fact that he was just naturally a man of few words. The kids merely glanced at each other with questioning expressions and shrugged.

After a few minutes, Daniel changed the subject to the new hospital he was working on, and the atmosphere returned to normal – only Michaela feeling the continued moodiness of the man at her side.

OOOOOOOO

Several hours later, Sully paced back and forth in front of Michaela's desk in the clinic, waiting for her to join him. She had gone upstairs to bid her sister goodnight.

He thought about the last few days and the emotional mountains and valleys he had traversed. Proposing marriage to Michaela and having her say 'yes' and being on top of the world... to coming back to town and finding the army on their doorstep, and feeling his world disintegrate beneath his feet. Then the tension of the so called 'treaty council', to the blessed relief when he watched the army pack up and leave town. He had thought then that everything was working out fine...that he and Michaela had no more valleys to cross...

But...the conversation at the table earlier had changed all that. His fears were back ten-fold – only now it wasn't his lack of money or position...it was the deep, dark secret he had locked away in his heart hoping it would never have to see the light of day.

_You must tell her all that is in your heart. Do not hold back. Do not keep things hidden from her. If she is meant to be with you, she will understand all._

His brother's words echoed in his mind and he knew he had to tell her, knew he had to allow Michaela the choice of whether or not she could still love him – after she found out.

Nerves threatened to get the better of him, and he swallowed dryly and wiped damp hands on the sides of his buckskins, pacing the length of the room again. Unconsciously, he grasped the medicine pouch in one hand, striving to draw strength from Cloud Dancing's 'spirits', but the thought of the upcoming conversation was making him literally sick to his stomach.

Then the door opened and Michaela bustled in thinking they had not a care in the world, smiling happily and chuckling about her sister telling and retelling her part in the 'exciting subterfuge'.

"Oh Sully, I'm so relieved everything is finally over," she whispered against his shoulder as he folded her in his arms. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, praying for courage as he allowed one hand to lovingly caress the back of her head.

Becoming aware of his continued anxiety, she pulled back and gazed up at him in the soft light from the lantern on the desk.

"Sully...what is it? You've been quiet for hours..." she paused, figuring it was just the stress of the past few days.

He drew in a deep breath and clamped his lips in an almost pout, stepping back a bit and grasping her hands. His eyes were serious...and sad...as he murmured, "Michaela...we gotta talk. Actually..._I_ gotta talk."

Her heart squeezed at the look in his eyes and her mouth went dry, her entire being suddenly filled with dread. _What in the world is he about to tell me?_ she fretted silently. _Has he changed his mind about marrying me? _

Urging her to sit facing him as he remained standing, she obeyed without a word, settling demurely on the chair with her hands folded in her lap, the long braid of her hair swept gently over her left shoulder.

Taking in another deep breath, Sully began haltingly, "Cloud Dancin' says we shouldn't keep things from each other..." he paused, gathering his courage.

She waited a moment, but when he didn't continue, she offered, "I agree. I've always believed in total honesty, Sully." Then blanching as she thought of their huge 'lie', she added softly, "Well...except in matters of life and death, I mean."

He stared at her, hoping what he was about to reveal would not change the look of absolute adoration he now saw on her face to one of complete revulsion.

"Michaela...there's somethin' I never told ya. Somethin' I did...but I was so ashamed...I couldn't tell ya. And I'm afraid...of what you'll do when you find out."

She stared up at him, relieved that he wasn't saying he'd changed his mind about their marriage, but concerned at what he was hinting at. For the life of her, she was unable to think of one thing he could possibly have said or done that would make her want to turn away from him. She reached out and took hold of one of his hands.

"Sully...what ever it is...please just tell me," she requested softly. "I promise I'll hear you out."

He pulled his hand from hers and began to pace again as she watched him. Without looking at her, he began, "You remember when I went on the assignment...to kill One Eye...and how I felt so bad for...killin' his wife?"

"Yes, of course..."

"Well...that ain't all I did. There's more," he paused as he neared her again and turned to face her. Bending slightly as he stared into her eyes, he brought one fist up and pressed it against his heart as he continued softly, "But you gotta believe me...the thought of it is rippin' my guts out."

"Oh Sully..." she whispered, her own heart beginning to hammer with dread; and ache as she witnessed the pain in his.

Sighing, he stood straight and let his arms drop to his sides in a posture of defeat. Then he closed his eyes and whispered, "When One Eye moved and I shot his wife...she...she had a baby in her arms...and she was _pregnant_." His body involuntarily shuddered as the nightmarish images played in his mind...the screams, the revulsion...the blood...the emotional agony and primal rage of the babies' father... "My bullet...it killed the three of 'em...in one shot..."

Gasping softly, Michaela's eyes widened in shock and then filled with tears. Her hands unconsciously rose to cover her mouth, the gristly details momentarily rendering her paralyzed as she watched the man she loved agonize over the horrible deed he had committed.

One tear rolled down Sully's cheek as he whispered, "I didn't just kill a _woman_...I killed two _children_...Michaela. I murdered two innocent babies! That makes me no better than O'Connor!" he burst out with self-aimed disgust.

Michaela was speechless, having never expected such a revelation to spill from the lips of this man she was pledged to marry.

Sully slowly opened eyes wet with tears and encountered what he had feared, but expected, to see in the gaze of the woman sitting before him...revulsion.

Clamping his lips together and nodding in silent answer to his own query, he turned and headed for the door.

This snapped Michaela out of her bewilderment and she rose quickly to her feet, gasping, "Where are you _going_?"

His hand on the knob, he turned to look back at her one more time, not even bothering to wipe the streaming tears from his cheeks.

"_Away_," he ground out, yanking the door open to make his escape.


	48. Chapter 48

CHAPTER 48

"Sully, _wait_!"

She managed to reach the door before he could step through it, nearly slamming it shut in her desire to keep him there. She reached out for him, but he wrenched away from her hands.

"Let me _go_, Michaela."

"No, Sully!" she returned vehemently. "You can't _drop_ something like that on me and then just _leave_," she murmured in an effort to keep her voice down. "_Talk_ to me."

Emitting a soft snort of self-disgust, he shook his head in amazement. "I saw in your eyes just now what 'cher thinkin'. I'm a baby-killer! I ain't fit ta be your husband," he ground out accusingly, although in truth he wasn't angry with _her_, but at the horrible yet unavoidable incident that had driven a wedge as strong as steel between him and the woman he loved.

She gasped at his words, but quickly strove to remedy them. "Oh Sully, that simply isn't _true_!" He kept his face turned from her and she reached out to touch his sleeve. "Please look at me."

He turned half way, cautiously venturing a gaze at her face, afraid he would see the same look of revulsion.

She tried to smile encouragingly, determinedly pushing away the horrible images. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"'Cause I knew how you'd react!" he burst emotively. Then drawing in a shuddering breath and closing his eyes again, added in a whisper, "I was ashamed...and afraid you'd...turn away from me if you knew."

She reached out for him again, this time gripping his arms and making him look at her.

"I'm not turning away from you, Sully! I _love_ you...and nothing you could _ever_ do would change that fact," she vowed softly.

Of course his admission had shocked and saddened her – she would never condone the deliberate slaughter of innocent life. But, she knew Sully had committed the act with absolutely no malice aforethought. She knew his heart – and she knew this tragedy had nearly shattered his soul.

His brow furrowed as he stared into her eyes and tried to make sense of conflicting 'realities'. "But...at the table tonight...you said killin' a child is..._unforgiveable_..." he whispered.

Now it all became crystal clear as she realized the discussion at the table had brought it back to his mind, and after all he'd been through the last three days, it was the final straw on the camel's back.

"Oh Sully...this in no way even resembles the acts O'Connor committed," she gently assured. "In your case it was an _accident. _ I know you never meant for that to happen."

He remained silent, his gaze unwavering, but a spark of hope flickered deep within the blue depths as he took in a shuddering breath. She gently continued, "It was a tragic, regrettable occurrence, yes. But, Sully, you were only following orders, and only aiming at an _enemy_ – an enemy who had threatened the annihilation of an entire garrison. You had no idea his wife and baby were even there. I know you would never knowingly hurt a child," she soothed lovingly, slipping up a hand to gently smooth his tears away. Part of her marveled that this strong, virile, brave man had such a tender side to his persona, which only reinforced the fact that he and a vile creature like O'Connor were polar opposites. Sully's tears of remorse proved he was a man of honor and compassion, and strength of character.

He drew in another shuddering breath as he felt his body begin to relax for the first time since he had sat down at the table. Reverently, he gathered both of her hands in his, bringing them to his lips before lowering his head and gently touching his forehead to hers.

"I thought I'd made peace with it...out there on my vision quest, but...I guess I'd just buried it..." he whispered. "Yesterday, after we left the treaty council...I sat in Black Kettle's tepee and listened to a grieved father...name's Franklin but he calls himself Grieving Elk now..." he paused as he pictured the broken man. "He'd been out huntin' with his son and came back ta find his village had been wiped out...by O'Connor and his men. He found his wife and baby girl...riddled with bullets..." he paused, fighting the nausea caused by the images his words created. "I felt so bad...that I'd ever been one of _them."_

"Sully – you were a _good_ soldier. You did everything by the book, not out of malice or hate or prejudice," she encouraged with gentle force.

He shrugged miserably. That didn't alter the fact that he had engaged in warfare against the Indians, despite only killing warriors in battle, not women or children.

At her wits end, Michaela gently pulled him into her arms to try and let him feel the depth of her love.

"You need to forgive yourself."

"How?" he whispered agonizingly.

She wasn't sure, but silently, she vowed to help this precious man release a burden that was too heavy for any human to carry.

OOOOOOOO

The next morning, the two glanced at each other as Sully reached for the knob on the church's front door. She grasped his arm and entwined her hand with his as they rounded the wall and entered the main room.

Reverend Johnson turned from dusting the pulpit and grinned when he saw them.

"Dr. Mike, Sully," he greeted with his friendly white smile. "I hear congratulations are in order. You're wantin' to talk about weddin' details, right?" he assumed good-naturedly.

Michaela smiled softly as Sully covered her hand with his free one and smiled down into her eyes.

"Thank you, Reverend. But...before we tend to that, there is something else we need to talk with you about," she offered quietly.

The clergyman's eyebrows rose expectantly. Then realizing the subdued and serious expressions on their faces, he sobered and put down his dusting cloth, gesturing to the front row of pews as he murmured, "Of course...sit down, won't you?"

They took seats and the Reverend pulled a chair up close. Then gazing at each one, he prompted gently, "What can I help you with?"

Michaela met Sully's eyes, silently prompting him to divulge what he chose to of the details. He swallowed and took a deep breath, loathing that he had to bring the subject up yet again.

"When I was in Arizona...I did somethin' bad...so terrible...that I..." he stumbled, shutting his eyes for a minute to try and gather his thoughts again.

"...And, you've been unable to get past the incident?" the wise clergyman guessed softly.

Sully glanced into his eyes and nodded, then lowered his head. Michaela squeezed his hand, her heart aching that he was in such pain.

Slowly, Sully carefully related what details he could without divulging the fact that he had been on active duty in the army at the time, wording it as if he were out hunting, which was in part true since he had been hunting One Eye. The Reverend listened quietly, watching Sully's expressions and body language, able to clearly see the incident had nearly decimated his soul.

When Sully stumbled again to a halt, Reverend Tim asked softly, "Are you wanted by the law for this?"

Sully shook his head and met Michaela's eyes, murmuring, "No...they were...Indians."

The Reverend nodded, relieved that he at least wouldn't be faced with the knowledge that one of his parishioners had committed a crime that necessitated lawful intervention. "What did the father do...?" he asked thoughtfully.

"He...he came after me...we fought...I killed him," Sully whispered. "He kept screamin' 'Kday kshee!'... that I'd killed his son...that was the hardest for me...since I'd watched my own child be born dead...I knew what he was feelin'," he added sorrowfully.

The clergyman nodded again, thinking this shed light on some things he had wondered about, including Sully's sudden reappearance after two years, and then the man's foray into all things Cheyenne.

"I've...tried to pray about it...to God...to the Cheyenne 'spirits'...askin' forgiveness that I took three...four lives," Sully offered.

Reverend Tim smiled gently. "And the Bible says in First John 1:9 that if we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." Waiting until Sully met his eyes again, he encouraged, "So..._He's_ forgiven you, Sully, as God's not a man that He should lie. But now I think, what is needed is for you to forgive _yourself_."

Sully's eyes began to fill and he blinked back the tears. Meeting the other man's gaze, he whispered, "How?"

Smiling understandingly, as he had struggled with his own self-recrimination and had only in recent years conquered his past, Reverend Johnson murmured, "Why don't we ask God for help?"

Sully nodded, and the Reverend reached out and joined hands with them both. He bowed his head, leading Sully in a heartfelt and cleansing prayer, and then praying for God to take away the pain and the shame.

When the three finally said, "Amen," and opened their eyes, Sully sighed with relief. He could feel that the bulk of the burden he had carried for so many months had finally begun to dissolve.

OOOOOOO

An hour after they had entered the church, the couple exited the front door hand in hand. Sully paused a minute on the porch, breathing in deeply. Gazing around, it occurred to him that everything within his field of vision seemed brighter, clearer, and he felt more alive than he had in years. The lifting of the heavy burden had energized his very soul.

He turned and took the woman he loved into his arms. She gazed up at him adoringly, her eyes drifting shut as he leaned in for a soft kiss, which she warmly returned.

Pulling back, he whispered, "Thanks for draggin' me here and makin' me talk to the Reverend. I never woulda done it on my own...but I'm so glad now that I did."

"You're welcome," she whispered back, drawing him into her arms for a much needed hug. "I love you so much. When _you_ hurt..._I_ hurt," she confessed softly.

He smiled and nuzzled her hair, so thankful to have a woman like her in his life. "I love you, too...more'n you'll ever know."

After a few moments, Michaela remembered they weren't behind closed doors, and pulled demurely back from his arms, glancing up at him shyly as she murmured, "We should go."

He grinned down at her and nodded in acquiescence, amused by the occasional moments of Boston propriety that rose to the surface of her personality. He grasped her hand and raised it to his lips for a kiss as they made their way down the stairs.

As they entered the dining room of the boarding house several minutes later, eying each other with obvious affection, Brian met them at the door.

"Dr. Mike! Sully! Is it true? Are ya really gonna get married?"

Michaela laughed happily and reached to pull the little boy against her skirts for a hug.

"Yes Brian. It's really true."

"Oh boy! Does that mean you'll be livin' here again like you did before, Sully?" the boy asked with delight, practically jumping up and down as he imagined being able to see his hero every day.

Sully laughed and reached to pick the boy up, glancing at his fiancée as he thought about the fact that he wanted Michaela to live with him at his homestead. "Well, actually...we ain't really talked about things like that yet."

"Can I be the flower girl in your weddin'?" Colleen gushed.

"I know just the dress for you to wear. It was my weddin' dress," Dorothy immediately jumped in. "Since my girls ran away ta get married, I thought it wouldn't eva be used again."

"Is Daniel gonna be your best man, Sully? Or are ya gonna ask yer friend Cloud Dancin'?" Matthew wanted to know.

"Grace and me can whip up a fine weddin' supper for ya. When's the big day?" Charlotte asked with a grin, wiping her hands on a towel as she emerged from the kitchen.

Just as Michaela was about to say that all of this was a little overwhelming, a voice was heard from the doorway.

"_Michaela_! You simply cannot get married _here_. Mother will never allow it!"

Everyone turned to see Marjorie standing in the doorway to the hall, hands on hips, Daniel right behind her, the two of them having been on a buggy ride out to the proposed hospital location.

"You and Mr. Sully will travel to Boston for your nuptials. That is, of course, after an appropriately long engagement," Michaela's sister ordered, unconsciously sounding very much like their mother.

"Marjorie..." Michaela began.

"We ain't..." Sully offered, but was cut off by Daniel as he stepped past the woman in the doorway, acting as an unconscious liaison between the parties.

"Seems ta me...Miss Marjorie...Sully and Michaela here are adults...able ta decide things how they want 'em..."

Everyone in the room waited with baited breath for the volatile woman to react to this, as Sully and Michaela exchanged glances, preparing to do something they had not expected – fight for the right to have their wedding the way they want.

After an uncomfortable few moments, Michaela took charge and ushered her fiancé, their friend, and her fuming sister across the hall to the clinic. Marjorie wasted no time.

"Michaela, I came here on the family's behalf to convince you to give up this lark and come back to Boston where you belong..." she began, quickly raising a hand as Michaela opened her mouth to argue. "_But I admit_...after being here for several days and seeing how the townspeople – for the most part – regard you as their physician...and noting that you appear to be content in your new life..."

"Marjorie, please, I..."

"No, let me finish," her sister interrupted, pausing to take a quick breath. Daniel and Sully exchanged glances.

Inclining her head toward Sully in an attempt to soften the blow of her next words, she added, "But you hardly _know_ this man – and he's already proven – more than once from what I understand, that when situations become too difficult for him, he simply leaves for parts unknown."

Sully had the grace to look down at his feet. He certainly couldn't argue with that, though the circumstances made his actions different than how Marjorie saw them.

Tilting her head in a haughty pose, she added, "For the most part, Michaela, even the _best_ of men cannot be trusted."

At this, Daniel grinned and cocked his head to one side, holding Marjorie's gaze when she cast it his way. "Now, Miss Marjorie, maybe you just ain't met the right _man_ yet."

She shrugged and determinedly looked away. "There _is_ no such man."

"Not even Father?" Michaela softly injected. The sisters shared a look and Marjorie had the grace to acquiesce. "Well, perhaps there are a _few_ exceptions..."

"And _Sully_ is one of those exceptions," Michaela firmly stated, moving to her fiancé's side and sliding an arm around him. He quickly enclosed her in his embrace as she gazed up at him with a loving smile. He grinned back and leaned to give her lips a quick peck.

Looking back at her sister, Michaela declared, her tone brooking no further argument, "Marjorie, I appreciate your concern – and Mother's – regarding my future and my happiness...but I've _found_ where I belong," she paused, meeting Sully's eyes again. "And it's _here_...with this man...in this town. And as for our wedding..."

"Michaela," Sully softly interrupted, gently grasping her left hand in his and lovingly pressing it against his heart. "It don't matter to me where we get married. If you wanna go ta Boston, we'll go ta Boston. That's up to you – all I want is for you to be happy."

She smiled and shook her head. "No Sully – my life is _here_ now, and here is where we'll begin our life together. If Mother can't understand that, well..." she paused, glancing at Marjorie and offering a tiny shrug. "C'est la vie."


	49. Chapter 49

CHAPTER 49

Both of the sisters were right about their mother – she most certainly had never understood her daughter's choice to travel on her own, first to a far flung military fort and then to a tiny town in the West, and to marry what amounted to an unemployed drifter, the only thing he owned being a tiny, rustic homestead. But, no matter - the plans for the wedding proceeded quite nicely.

The couple decided on a six month engagement, with the wedding to take place on the twentieth of May– a day that their friend, Cloud Dancing, declared to be their joining date ordained by the 'spirits,' as he explained to them the next time they visited the reservation.

"The spirits have given me a dream...a message...that I wish to impart to you," the Medicine Man intoned as the four settled comfortably around the fire ring in Cloud Dancing and Snowbird's teepee. The engaged couple sat close together, Sully's arm draped around his fiancée's shoulders.

They glanced at one another, and Sully smiled and gently lifted Michaela's left hand, bringing it to his lips for a quick kiss.

Switching his gaze back to his friend, he murmured, "Go on."

Cloud Dancing nodded and with furrowed brow, began to impart the account.

"The night after the storm, I dreamed I was on a vision quest. I did not know the reason for this quest; I had just obeyed the spirits. As I lay on the buffalo hide, staring up at the stars, my thoughts became filled with the two of you...your deep love...and the connection that allows each of you to feel when the other is in trouble, and I wondered when you would join in marriage. Suddenly, a shooting star streaked across the sky...then another, and another, until there were five. In my vision, as I pondered this, I went to sleep. The next morning I was awakened by the call of geese flying south for the winter. I watched as two small flocks merged into one and continued on their way. As the two of you...two separate lives joining as one. I counted the birds in the two flocks made one, and there were twenty."

He paused a moment, sharing a gaze with his wife as they both remembered he'd had a similar dream before their own joining.

"Then it became clear. The five shooting stars are months, and the two flocks coming together as one is your union, numbering twenty days in that month. I knew that the spirits had given me a message for you, my brother," he ended, meeting Sully's eyes.

"But why is that particular day so important?" Michaela wondered, exchanging glances with Snowbird and Sully.

Cloud Dancing shrugged unconcernedly as he leaned back and reached for a handful of seeds on which to munch. "I do not know. That is what the spirits said." Lifting a hand and thoughtfully pointing toward her for emphasis, he added, "Many times, we do not know the reason, only that we are to obey."

Michaela met Sully's eyes and both smiled and nodded, each completely at peace with the prospective date.

As soon as they came back from the reservation, Michaela wired the date to both her mother and eldest sister Rebecca. The former replied enthusiastically that she would be there without fail… however, the date happened to be set in the middle of the annual flower show, of which Elizabeth was the director, and she rather tersely sent her regrets.

Marjorie returned to Boston a week after the Treaty Council – with Michaela truly sad to see her go, as they had been enjoying a closer relationship lately than they ever had in their lives.

Life went on for the residents of Colorado Springs. More and more people began to see Michaela as their physician and to trust her opinion on various topics. Horace especially seemed to seek out her advice, or come down with some ailment or accidental injury, on almost a daily basis.

Daniel decided to settle down in Colorado Springs and work on his plans for the eventual building of the hospital. In spite of the fact that he first came up with the idea as a way to garner Michaela's attention, he soon came to realize it was a much-needed entity, and even perhaps his 'calling' in life. He did, however, wish for Marjorie's knowledgeable input, and deep in his heart he still harbored a dream that had a lot to do with the fiery redhead.

Thanksgiving came, with Charlotte, Colleen, and their 'apprentice' Michaela serving a scrumptious meal, attended by quite a few of the unmarried townsfolk. Grace had closed her café, with plans to open her new indoor establishment at the first of the year.

For the most part, in a room full of laughing, chattering people, Sully couldn't take his eyes off of his beautiful fiancée. She had curled her hair that morning and it fell down her back in large buoyant waves. Her eyes sparkled with life and joy as she interacted with those around her, and he wondered for the hundredth time how he had managed to win the heart – and hand – of a lady for whom any man with two eyes and any sense at all would lay down their life in a heartbeat. His heart swelled with love and pride as he noticed other men surreptitiously stealing glances at the lovely lady doc.

Michaela enjoyed the day, several times thinking it had been one of the most pleasant Thanksgivings she had ever experienced, so different from two years prior, which she had spent in Boston with David as her fiancé. That day had been a long, tension-filled day, after which she had gone to bed that night with a splitting headache. Now, spending the day with friends she loved...and her fiancé whom she adored...she never thought she could be that happy. Her gaze never strayed long from Sully...she found him absolutely gorgeous, and so alluringly virile, and was headily pleased at how the burgundy shirt he wore contrasted handsomely with his beads and smooth tanned skin.

More than once during the day, her eyes had fallen on her left hand, the polished bone heart on her engagement ring glinting in the lamplight, and she allowed herself a moment to picture and cherish the morning he had slipped it on her hand...the intense love and adoration in those azure blue eyes. The only thing that could possibly top that would be the moment he would slip a wedding band on that same finger, and the thought of that never failed to send a shiver of anticipation throughout her entire being.

Twice during the long afternoon, Sully had glanced her way and caught her staring at the ring he had lovingly crafted for her. Their eyes had met, and his twinkled knowingly. To say that it warmed his heart how much she loved and appreciated his gift would be an understatement. His arms ached to fold her into a passionate embrace.

After dinner, as Charlotte and Colleen began to clear the table, their family and guests milling about the room, Sully suddenly grasped his surprised intended by the hand and fairly dragged her out the door and down the hall.

"Sully!" Michaela squealed softly, though in truth her heart immediately began to pound with nervous anticipation.

He ducked into a shadowed spot under the interior stairs, and straight away backed her against the wall. Even in the dim light she could discern the intense expression in his eyes as he very boldly hovered close, his body almost touching hers, his hands resting on the wall next to her head.

"I been needin' somethin' all day. Can't wait no longer," he murmured, his voice low and raspy as he pinned her still by the piercing look in his eyes.

She swallowed, unconsciously wetting her lips, striving to remember to breathe as she gazed up at him, her hands rising to rest against his chest.

"What...do you need?" she whispered, her breath catching as his lips slowly formed a sensuous smile.

"This," he almost growled as he slowly descended, his lips touching hers briefly, instantly igniting the passion that always hovered just below the surface. A tiny sound escaped her throat as she instantly melted into him, surrendering her mouth to his loving onslaught as he immediately deepened the kiss. Her hands lovingly grasped his sides as his fingers moved to tangle themselves in her hair. Each one emitted a sigh of relief as their pent up longing was, at least in part, satisfied.

When the two later returned to the dining room hand in hand, no one in the room could possibly miss the radiant joy emanating from their countenances, nor their sparkling eyes and kiss-reddened lips. Charlotte grinned and shook her head, wondering silently if those two would make it another six months without running off to get married.

Indeed, the 'lovebirds' would have been extremely embarrassed to know that Hank had a running bet going with his regulars that the enamored couple would never wait out the full six months – although his bet had more to do with their physical relationship than their state of matrimony.

OOOOOOOO

Two weeks went by as life in the tiny town continued. Though he had not told her, Michaela managed to find out – through his one time mother-in-law - that Sully's birthday was the ninth of December. Wishing to honor the man she loved, she had made plans with Charlotte, Grace and Daniel to throw him a surprise party, which went off without a hitch. Sully had reacted with customary humbleness and vowed a reprisal on her special day, though she knew he was hiding the fact that her loving gesture had meant the world to him.

Michaela's happiness was short-lived, however, when the next day, she received yet another letter from her mother in Boston urging her to give up this 'lark' and return to where she _belonged_.

Regrettably, there had always been an unexplainable gulf between mother and daughter, so many things on which they could not seem to see eye to eye. Who she should choose to spend the rest of her life with had become yet another major bone of contention between them.

It never failed to amaze her – the difference between the two men with whom she had been engaged to marry. David, though at first attentive and sweet, had later merely seemed proud to be marrying a 'Boston Quinn', where Sully loved her so completely, she knew without a doubt that he would do anything within his power to make her happy. Her mother's letter, filled with her continued harping on finding another 'match' as good as David, had cut her to the quick. She just wished her mother would give Sully a chance.

Sully found her at her desk in the clinic, tears of frustration in her eyes as she stared unseeingly out the window.

"Hey," he murmured from the doorway.

She drew in a breath and looked over at him. Everything about him pleased her... his looks of course, but also his gentleness, his wisdom, his outlook on life...and his love for her – unfathomably deep, strong, and true.

"Hey," she answered his greeting, managing to smile at the love of her life, her reward being Sully flashing her one of his heart stopping grins.

He pushed off from leaning against the door jam and moved inside, stopping next to her chair. She gazed up at him, relishing in the warmth of his hand as he reached to caress her cheek. "Somethin' wrong?" he murmured.

A denial quickly rose to her tongue, but she paused as she caught the knowing look in his eyes. Huffing a sigh, she gestured to the letter on the table near her hand.

He glanced at it, noting the familiar handwriting. "Letter from your Ma?"

She nodded, her eyes cast down. He bent down and gently grasped her hands, pulling her to her feet and into his arms for a hug.

"Don't worry," he whispered against her hair. "There's still time for her to come around. And Marjorie and Rebecca said they'll come..."

She moved her hand to swipe at a stray tear, her eyes shut as she relished the warmth of his embrace. "You're right...I just wish...she would give you a chance," she murmured softly, pulling back enough to look into his eyes. "If she would just get to know you...know how wonderful you are..."

He grinned at her compliment. "Well...long as _you_ think I'm wonderful...that's all that matters ta me."

She smiled into his eyes, being comforted as always by his calm assurances. Tilting her chin up a little, she invited his kiss, and he didn't disappoint her, his lips immediately descending to spend the next few minutes thoroughly enjoying the freedom to show the woman he loved just how wonderful he found _her_ to be.

OOOOOOOOO

Later that day, the boarding house filled with a mass of emotion, as in the same post a letter had come for Dorothy from her oldest daughter, Mary. After many years of estrangement, the young woman had heard her abusive father had passed away and decided to reach out to her remaining parent and invite her to share in her life and happiness. To say the least, Dorothy was beside herself with joy and she immediately began making plans to travel to St. Louis to spend Christmas with her, as well as meet her daughter's husband and children. She could barely contain her excitement a week later as she boarded the stage laden with packages.

Daniel departed for Boston on the same stage, with the excuse of contacting architects about the building of the new hospital – but Michaela and Sully both suspected that he would at some point find his way to a particular mansion in Beacon Hill, to visit a certain redhead. Michaela almost wished she could be there to see the historic event.

The days went by, the weather steadily growing colder. Christmas Eve finally arrived, and along with it, a blizzard.

Michaela was beside herself with worry over Sully, who had driven his wagon to Denver nearly a week before to pick up building materials for a project he was working on at the homestead, leaving an injured Wolf in her care. He had telegrammed to say that the special shipment had been delayed, but he promised to be back in plenty of time to celebrate Christmas with her and their friends. A massive cold front had moved in without warning, however, and began dumping heavy, wet snow.

A very subdued Michaela spent the day in the parlor of the boarding house, striving to smile and interact with Charlotte and the children, but finding herself every few minutes standing at the front window gazing at the winter wonderland outside.

She was sure he was out there, somewhere in the driving snow, as she had sent a telegram, but received no reply. Over the months of getting to know her fiancé, Michaela had learned that Sully would absolutely do himself harm if need be, in order to keep a promise. Now, she feared he was setting aside good judgment and caution to keep his word of being with her on the holiday.

As she closed her eyes to silently pray for his safety, she felt Brian's little hand slide into hers. She opened her eyes to find the child gazing up at her. With childlike wisdom and pure faith in his hero, he murmured, "Don't worry, Dr. Mike. Sully'll be okay. You'll see. He can do _anything_."

Michaela smiled and reached down to lift the boy into her arms, giving him a heartfelt hug. Ever since she had taken up residence in the boarding house, she had grown to love him dearly, almost as if this child of her friend was her very own.

"Thank you, Brian. I'm sure you're right," she murmured, her cheek pressed to his.

As she put him back on his feet, he took her hand again, encouraging, "C'mon, help us string the popcorn."

She smiled again, looking over to catch Charlotte's gaze as the proud mother looked on. The two women exchanged understanding smiles and Charlotte nodded, letting Michaela know she agreed with her son's summation.

Michaela hoped and prayed they were right.

OOOOOOO

Sully ground his teeth together against the cold and turned his head from the onslaught of driving snow, wishing he had taken the time to put the wooden arches and canvas cover over the wagon. He had known snow was a possibility, but hadn't counted on having a five-day wait in Denver before the shipment of a special item for the homestead would arrive.

Then ignoring the warnings of several others about the very real possibility of snow, he had stubbornly set out for home, determined to get back to town and spend Christmas with Michaela. It's all he could think about.

"Yeeha!" he yelled to his horse, snapping the reins yet again against the steed's back, which was covered in a fine coat of the white powder. "Just 'nother mile, O'ham'é [Horse]," he encouraged. "We're almost there, just keep goin'!"

The horse shivered and shook his head vigorously, but then seemed to pull a little harder, as if it understood Sully's words.

_Just a mile to the homestead, _Sully mused, thankful he could still just make out the road. _Then I gotta get ta town. I promised. Gotta keep my promise to her. She'll be worr..._

Just then, O'ham'é stumbled in an unseen hole in the road hidden by the already four inch deep snow. The animal whinnied loudly and immediately began to limp a little on its right foreleg.

"Dangit!" Sully mumbled, pulling back on the reins and jumping down from the wagon. Rounding to the horse's head, Sully calmed the animal with soft words, then felt his way down, determining the leg to be sprained, but not broken.

Sully closed his eyes with a sigh, not wanting to admit defeat.

"Sorry, boy," he whispered, reaching up to brush snowflakes off the large face. The horse blinked long eyelashes sparkling with ice crystals and gave a soft snort; puffing out a small cloud of steam into the cold, damp air, as it seemed to regard him with an attitude of 'what now?'

Knowing it would do no good to beat himself up over his decision to try and outrun the storm, he looked around, considering his choices. Not knowing how long the blizzard would last, he couldn't just leave the horse there.

Sighing, he quickly set about removing the animal from the harness, dropping the tongue to the ground. Then stepping to the back of the wagon, he reached inside and retrieved an item, clamping it under one arm. Though it was doubtful anyone would come upon the unattended wagon before he could return, he wanted to take no chances.

_Nothin' for it but to trudge the rest 'a the way home, _he groused under his breath, grasping the reins and determinedly heading due north.

One lousy mile had never seemed so long.

* * *

AN - Thank you so much Audrey for your help on this chapter - and thanks Tess for the awesome idea for CD's vision! :) Love you guys!


	50. Chapter 50

CHAPTER 50

Late that evening, almost suppertime, Charlotte and Michaela tried to soothe Colleen after they found out the church party had been cancelled due to the weather.

"Darlin', they'll be other Christmas parties," Charlotte called to her daughter from the kitchen as she finished basting the turkey.

Michaela, decked out for the party in one of her lovely Boston dresses, smiled at the girl who sat forlornly in a chair near the dining room fireplace, idly plucking at the folds of the rose-colored dress she had painstakingly stitched for the occasion. Kneeling down, Michaela gently brushed a lock of Colleen's blonde hair back from her face, murmuring, "Christmas isn't about parties, sweetheart."

Colleen shrugged with a sniffle as she tried not to cry.

"I know...I was just lookin' forward to it for so long..." she whined.

"And it's sure not about dressin' fancy," Matthew groused, tugging at his string tie.

"Yeah!" Brian added, watching his older brother and then reaching up to tug at his own string tie in a good imitation.

Michaela straightened up and met his eyes with a soft smile of agreement as Charlotte brought the turkey to the table.

"No it ain't, but I don't think it'll hurt to let God see us cleaned up for a change," their mother retorted.

Matthew shrugged and turned away toward the fireplace. In truth, he had been looking forward to the Christmas party himself...another chance to maybe get to spend some time with Ingrid.

"Colleen, come help me bring in the food, put your mind on what ya _do_ have and off what ya _don't,_" Charlotte ordered gently, laying a hand lovingly on her daughter's shoulder. The girl sniffled and nodded as she rose to obey.

Michaela followed mother and daughter through the door to lend a hand as well.

"Perhaps we could sing Christmas carols to brighten our mood," she offered, meeting Charlotte's eyes.

"Sounds like a good idea, Dr. Mike," she agreed, clearing her throat as she reached for a bowl of mashed potatoes. "Weeeee wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you a Merry Christmas," she began, Michaela joining in. "We wish you a Merry Christmas, and a Happy New Year."

Entering the dining room with their hands loaded with dishes of food, the three females continued, "Good tidings we bring to you and your kin..." Charlotte eyed her two boys, who both grinned and joined in, "Good tidings for Christmas and a happy New Year."

Laughing happily, Charlotte began singing her favorite. "Joy to the world, the Lord is come," as the others joined in with her. As the table slowly filled with delicious food, the caroling continued until the food was placed and the inhabitants seated.

Charlotte, sitting at the head of the table, held out both hands, one to her friend on her left, and the other to her eldest son on her right. They placed their hands in hers and everyone followed suit. Then the lady of the house cast a look at her friend.

"Dr. Mike...would you say the blessin'?"

Michaela smiled and gave a nod, bowing her head as the others did likewise.

"Dear Lord, grant us the strength to accept the misfortunes of this past year. Please give us the courage to face the challenges that lie ahead. Whenever possible, watch over and protect us from harm. We thank You for bringing us together, for our good health, and for this bread..."

She paused as Wolf, lying by the fire, lifted his head and began to whine, causing everyone to open their eyes. Before anyone could move, Wolf suddenly jumped to his feet and scampered to the door to the outer hall, closed to preserve the heat of the fireplace. Whining again, he scratched at the portal.

Brian left his chair and went to the door. "You need out, boy?" he murmured, turning the knob and opening the door, nearly falling back as Wolf forced his way past, scurrying to the outer door, barking and scratching the wood surface.

"My goodness," Michaela murmured, surprised at the exuberance of the normally placid animal, but a seed of expectation and hope began to germinate in her heart. Meeting one another's gazes, each member of the household rose and headed toward the door just as Brian turned the knob.

"Sully!" Brian squealed in delight, spying his hero just raising a hand to knock on the entry. "Oh gosh..." the boy added after he looked closer at the man. Sully stood, shivering and hunched over on the building's porch, his only recognizable feature was the snow-covered black and red poncho draped over his head. A cloth bag was slung over his shoulder, making him appear as a somewhat pathetic version of Saint Nicholas. Ice crystals covered his face, hair, and the poncho, and his boots were encrusted with snow.

"Sully!" Michaela gasped, immediately reaching out to grab his arm and pull him inside, Brian and Matthew pushing the door shut against the gusts of frigid wind.

"Come in by the fire, quickly. You're half frozen!" she fussed, taking charge and ushering him through the dining room doorway.

"I'm...f...fine," he stammered, his lips stiff with cold.

"I'll be the judge of that," the doctor returned crisply.

The others buzzed around their frosty friend, helping him peel off the icy wet poncho as he continued to stiffly insist he was all right and to stop fussing over him. Michaela took the cloth bag from his shoulder and set it aside.

"Where's your horse, Sully? I'll take 'im to Robert E..." Matthew offered as he gestured toward the door.

"W...went...l...lame," he managed, fighting off shivers as his body reacted to the change in temperature. "W...walked...fr...from...homes'...homestead."

"Colleen, run 'n get Sully a cup of hot coffee," Charlotte instructed as she stretched to fasten the frosty poncho to a hook by the fire to dry, adding, "Brian, bring us a couple' a towels, quick son." Both kids scurried off to do her bidding.

"Oh Sully...why did you _do_ this?" Michaela fussed as she guided him onto a chair next to the fireplace. A handful of wet snow clinging to the waves of hair at his forehead fell to the hearth and immediately began to melt.

"P...promised..." he answered with a sheepish grin as she reached past him, their faces inches apart.

She pressed her lips together with a sigh and shook her head, her emotions jumbled between immense relief that he was finally there, and frustration that he had put himself in danger of frostbite, or worse.

"We need ta get them boots off, let his feet thaw out," Charlotte commented with a nudge to Michaela's arm, noticing with fondness that the two had paused to stare into one another's eyes.

"Indeed," the doctor nodded agreement, snapping herself back into 'doctor mode' as the ladies set about working on the frozen leather.

"I can d' do that," Sully insisted, awkwardly attempting to push Michaela's hands away, though secretly enjoying the attention.

Suddenly, a soft whine was heard.

From her crouched position at Sully's feet, Michaela shot him a questioning look, and he reached inside his jacket and carefully pulled out a tiny wolf puppy. He cast a lopsided grin up at Charlotte.

His friend met his gaze and understood. "For Brian?" she asked softly. He nodded with a sniffle, his nose red from the cold.

Brian came back through the door just then and hurried to his hero's side with the towels, gasping when he saw the adorable little animal.

"A puppy!" he squealed.

Sully tried to grin as he handed the animal into the boy's arms, but his mouth was still quite stiff from the cold.

"Merry C'Christmas, B'Brian," he managed.

The little boy's sweet face glowed with happiness as he hugged the small pup to his chest.

"Thanks, Sully!"

The others exchanged amused looks and fond grins as they watched the boy fall instantly in love with the tiny canine.

As soon as the latecomer was dried off and warmed, the group to sat down together to the scrumptious meal waiting on the table.

Casting a glance around at the group, Michaela extended her hands to Sully and to Charlotte, wishing to finish the interrupted blessing. With wide grins, everyone obliged.

"Dear Lord, we thank You again for this wonderful meal, a warm and comfortable home in which to enjoy it, and for the friendship and love alive in this room. We thank You for bringing Sully safely through the storm to join us, and we ask that You continue to watch over us and protect us all in the coming year. Amen."

"Amen," each one softly echoed as Michaela opened her eyes and turned her head, exchanging sweet smiles with her handsome fiancé, adding silently, _and thank You for the love of this precious man..._

OOOOOOO

Michaela looked up from updating a patient's file as a knock sounded on her clinic door.

"Come in," she called, smiling at Horace as he stuck his head inside the doorway and flashed her his shy, goofy grin.

"Hey Dr. Mike," the gangly telegraph operator responded. "Ya got a minute?"

"Of course, Horace," Michaela immediately replied, rising and circling the desk. "How can I help you?"

Realizing he still held the mail in his hand, he stammered, "Oh...I, uh...brought ya your mail..."

Michaela smiled and nodded, as she took several letters and a small box wrapped in brown paper from his hand.

"Thank you, Horace." Then pausing, she took a good look at his right hand and noticed the rather large blister on his finger. "Oh Horace...again?" she murmured sympathetically, already grasping his arm and leading him to the exam table.

"Yeah," he chuckled, embarrassed. "The one from Thanksgivin' just healed, and here's another."

"Perhaps you should wear gloves," she quipped, offering him her teasing half grin as she set about disinfecting the digit in preparation for treatment.

"Oh, by the way, Dr. Mike...that's a real nice shingle outside..."

Michaela instantly grinned with happiness. "Thank you. Sully made it for me."

"I kinda thought so. He's good with stuff like that," the lanky man nodded. "Me...well...all's I'm good at is sendin' telegraph messages. I ain't never been good at stuff like most other fellas...you know...huntin'...wood workin'...stuff like that," he shrugged sadly.

"Well, don't worry about that, Horace. You have a very important, vital job in this town. Why, we would be practically cut off from the rest of the world without your estimable service," she encouraged sweetly, meaning every word.

"My...uh...yeah...thanks, Dr. Mike..." he stammered, before beginning his customary whining and wincing as she set to work on the blister.

Ten minutes later, Michaela walked the tall slender man to the door with reminded instructions on how to care for his bandaged finger, and with admonishment to try not to overuse it again. As he loped away, Michaela's eye caught the shingle next to the outer door and she turned to it, touching it lovingly as she remembered the moment...

As everyone finished their meal and sat back, idly rubbing overly full stomachs and complimenting Charlotte and Colleen on the delicious fare, Brian suddenly hopped down from his chair and bounded over to the box near the fireplace where his mother had insisted he keep the puppy while they ate.

Everyone in the room watched the little boy as he scooped up his new pet and began to play with it.

"Ain't fair, Brian gets a present early," Matthew half joked, his mouth quirked in its customary half grin.

"Well...as a matter of fact, when I was growing up, we were always allowed to open one of our gifts on Christmas Eve...sort of a tradition," Michaela offered, meeting eyes with the others.

"Oh, can we, Ma?" Colleen gushed, reaching over to grasp her mother's hand with a large, pleading grin, her brown eyes sparkling.

"Well...don't see why not," Charlotte acquiesced, to the excited squeal of her daughter and the chuckle of her eldest.

"Why don't I give ya _my_ gifts," Sully suggested, and before anyone could object, he rose and moved to the bag that had been dropped by the fire.

Opening the cloth sack, feeling much like St. Nicholas, he pulled out an item made of wood, grinning at their host and handing it to Charlotte with a murmured, "Merry Christmas." It was a hand carved wooden spice rack for her kitchen.

"Oh Sully, I love it! Thank you!" she responded as she examined the useful gift. He nodded with a mumbled, "You're welcome."

Next he handed over Colleen's gift, a carved hair comb. The girl grinned and hugged it to her chest, her twinkling eyes revealing her feelings of 'hero worship' for their handsome friend. "Thank you, Sully," she whispered, thrilled when he winked a reply.

Next he handed a small knife to Matthew.

"Thanks Sully...now all ya have ta do is teach me how to carve."

Sully laughed and nodded. "Sure thing, Matthew."

As the others looked on, Sully brought the last, and largest, item out of the sack, brushing off bits of sawdust before carefully placing it in Michaela's hands. She gazed at the item, a large, beautifully engraved wooden shingle for her doorway, announcing to the world that she was "M. Quinn, MD," and under that in perfectly formed letters, he had carved, "Medicine Woman".

"Now _that's_ a shingle," he teased, and she met his eyes, both of them remembering the first day she had arrived and she held up her comparably tiny shingle, and his teasing comment.

"It certainly is," she agreed with a happy grin as they were momentarily lost in each other's eyes.

"Medicine Woman?" Charlotte asked, looking over Michaela's shoulder at the gift.

"Yeah. It's her Cheyenne name. Black Kettle gave it to her," Sully explained quietly, a momentary cloud darkening his blue eyes as he remembered rushing to town and bringing Michaela out to the homestead in the pouring rain to tend to the wounded chief just days after their meeting at the reservation. As punishment for not signing the treaty, Chivington's men had mounted a surprise attack on the village, but the wise chief had posted sentries around the perimeter and had been able to get most of the people out beforehand. He, however, had not escaped unharmed. Michaela's expert knowledge had saved the great man's life...

A sudden gust of cold wind brought Michaela back to the present and she scurried inside and made her way over to the potbellied stove in the corner of the room.

Warming her hands, she resumed her musings, picturing Sully walking her to her room that night while the blizzard raged overhead...

As they paused by her door, he drew her warmly into his arms for a long, sweet hug, each just enjoying the freedom to touch, and press into one another's embrace. It was pure heaven. The thought came that she was very glad her fiancé was a man who kept his promises...

"I'm so thankful we're together tonight...Merry Christmas, my love," Michaela murmured shyly, her cheek against Sully's strong shoulder.

Sully's hold tightened and he turned his head slightly to press his lips to her hair. "Me, too. Merry Christmas...and...thank you..." he whispered lovingly.

She smiled softly. "But I haven't even given you your gift yet..."

He smiled wistfully at her teasing tone, but still feeling romantic, he murmured as he brought one hand up and caressed the back of her head, "Yeah ya have...you've given me the best gift of all – the gift of love."

Tears immediately filled her eyes and she pulled back enough to see his face in the soft light of a nearby lamp. "Oh Sully..." she whispered, gazing up at him adoringly as his hand moved to caress her cheek. His eyes were so full of emotion; they fairly took her breath away. Her eyes fluttered shut as his head descended, his lips gently meeting hers in a reverent kiss. Pausing just for a moment, he folded her in his arms and the kiss became passion-filled, the kind that always made tingles of awareness rush through their bodies. The warmth and nearness were nearly too much for the engaged couple, and after several long moments, Sully reluctantly pulled back, taking in a ragged breath.

"It's gonna be hard ta get to sleep tonight, knowin' you're just across the hall," he softly teased, a hint of mischief glimmering in his eyes as he lovingly watched Michaela regain her composure. With a grin, he leaned to press a kiss to her cheek as he reached for the knob on her door, turning it and allowing her to slip inside.

"Goodnight," she whispered, raising one hand and pressing two fingers against her lips, but fervently wishing their kiss could have continued indefinitely. Closing the door, she leaned back against its surface with a soft sigh and listened as he quietly moved across the hall and softly shut his own door.

Sully had been right, the heady excitement of knowing he was lying in a bed across the hall the entire night – no doubt thinking of her as she was thinking of him – made her restless with unarticulated longings. Sleep eluded her for hours, until she finally succumbed to tiredness in the wee hours of the morning. However, when Brian's excited voice as he opened his presents rang from downstairs and shook her awake, she was instantly immersed in the sheer euphoric magic of the day, even more so as she met with Sully in the hall and they exchanged sweet kisses and a heartfelt, whispered, "Merry Christmas."

Smiling now as she crossed to her desk, she mused that she had spent a blissful holiday with the people she loved – the children, Charlotte...and Sully. Sully had been so attentive, never straying far from her side.

Despite conflicting emotions about the blizzard that had them all stranded - angst that it could have cost the life of the man she loved...but pleasure that it gave them an opportunity to be together for the holiday, carefree and safe in the cozy shelter of Charlotte's boarding house – she was truly unable to remember a happier Christmas. She couldn't help but dream of Christmases to come, in their homestead, with children of their own to delight in the joy of the season.

With nothing to stand in their way anymore, the future was indeed bright and full of promise.


	51. Chapter 51

A/N - Putting up the story a bit early, will be super busy tomorrow. Hope you enjoy! And don't worry - M&S _are_ in this one :)

CHAPTER 51

Daniel cleared his throat and reached up to once again make sure his cravat was straight. He gave a slight shiver as he drew his cloak tighter about his shoulders and buttoned it, then reached out and lifted the heavy brass knocker on the rich mahogany door of the brownstone, and gave it a few firm strikes. A sharp gust of wind whirled around the doorway and he hoped the butler wouldn't take long.

Moments later, the door opened and a gray haired man dressed in a black suit calmly met his gaze.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah...yes," Daniel began, mentally chastising himself to speak 'properly'. "Yes, I wish to see Miss Marjorie Quinn, please. My name is Daniel Simon."

"Is she expecting you, sir?"

"Well...no. But if you would, could you ask her if she'll see me?"

The butler looked him up and down, noticing the tailored suit and expensive cloak, and surmised this was the Daniel who was the subject of considerable scuttlebutt among the servants.

Stepping back, he indicated with a nod for the visitor to enter.

"You may wait in the parlor," he offered. Daniel smiled his gratitude and made his way into the opulent room and straight to the roaring fire.

Several minutes later, the butler returned.

"Miss Marjorie will be down shortly. She requests that you make yourself comfortable."

Nodding his thanks, Daniel reached to unclasp the button on his cloak and hand it to the now friendly butler, before turning again to extend his hands toward the fire. As he warmed, he gazed around at the room and its lavish furnishings. He had the money now...he could afford to buy things like this...have a house like this. Huffing a tiny sigh, he pressed his lips together and wondered why that prospect held practically no appeal.

Casting his gaze around, and then up at the mantle, his eyes landed on a photograph of what he assumed was the Quinn family. He stared at the older couple seated in the center – a stern looking woman and a bearded gentlemen – with five young women surrounding them. He gazed for a moment at a much younger Michaela sitting to her father's left, smiling happily. Then, his eyes lighted on a young Marjorie, her expression one of mischief in the making. He chuckled a bit, wondering what she was thinking behind that grin when the photo was snapped.

"Mr. Simon, how nice to see you," a familiar voice interrupted his musings. He turned and met the blue eyes of the lady at which he had just been staring, older perhaps, but still just as feisty. Her eyes were twinkling happily as she gazed at him, though she was standing demurely, hands clasped before her, no doubt as she had been taught in some expensive finishing school years ago. He thought she looked lovely in her Boston finery, a pale blue dress overlaid in off white lace with three-quarter length sleeves, and complete with large bustle.

Marjorie gazed at the man standing in front of the parlor fireplace in what appeared to be a new, stylish and expensive tailored suit. His blond hair was neatly combed, and his dark blue eyes were staring back at her in pleasure. He was even more handsome than she remembered and she actually felt her heartbeat speed up a little at his presence. She couldn't believe he was actually there...the man whom she hadn't been able to get off her mind since her return from Colorado Springs. The man about whom she had confided to her sister Claudette, and who had carelessly allowed the servants to overhear when she had mentioned it to her husband.

Daniel cleared his throat and grinned engagingly. "Miss Marjorie. It's nice to see you, too."

They stood for a moment at a loss for words, and then finally she motioned for him to take a seat in one of the chairs. She settled into the matching one.

"How are my sister and...Mr. Blue Hawk," she joked softly, grinning at his chuckle.

"They're fine. Sully's been workin' hard, remodelin' his homestead," he answered, unconsciously slipping back into his relaxed vernacular.

Marjorie nodded and tried to suppress a shudder, picturing a run-down cabin in the woods. Though she had come to respect her sister's wishes, she wasn't sure she could totally give up modern conveniences for a life like that, no matter how romantic the man...

"That's good," she offered for lack of something to say.

Another lapse of silence stretched as they each glanced away from the other and around the room. He tugged at his cravat. She smoothed the folds of her dress.

"So...what brings you to Boston, Mr. Simon?" she asked politely.

His eyes met hers again and he smiled. "Took your advice. Came east to hire an architect to design the hospital for Colorado Springs. Been here for two weeks..."

"Indeed," she inclined her head, wondering if he had spent Christmas and New Year's alone in a hotel room. "Which firm did you choose?"

"Bradley & Latham."

"Ahh. Good choice," she nodded seriously. Bradley & Latham were her ex-husband's firm's biggest rivals, so that was welcome news and gave her a somewhat spiteful thrill.

Once again, they lapsed into silence, the closeness they had enjoyed on their talks in Colorado Springs now feeling strained. Perhaps it was the pretentiousness of the large house. Daniel scrambled for some way to break through the impasse.

Finally Marjorie made as if to stand, murmuring, "Well, it was nice to..."

"I'd...like to invite you out tonight," he suddenly burst out, stopping her in mid sentence. "To dinner, dancing...that is, unless you have other plans..." he asked almost shyly, eyebrows elevated as he awaited her answer.

She felt her whole body tingle with anticipation. He was asking her out! No man in Boston had even deigned to cast a glance her way since Everett had dumped her...and now here, this incredibly handsome – and wealthy – man was asking to take her out. Secretly, she hoped they would run into Everett, as she inclined her head demurely and murmured, "Yes. I would like that."

He grinned and inclined his head in return. "Good. I'll pick you up at 7:00."

OOOOOOOO

Grace looked over to a corner table in her newly opened indoor café, watching for a moment as Dr. Mike, her brow furrowed, read the last few lines of a letter. Grabbing the coffee pot, Grace headed her way, filling the cups of the few diners who were finishing their meals on that cold midmorning.

"Another letter from ya Ma?" Grace asked softly as she poured some of the hot, dark liquid into Dr. Mike's empty cup.

Michaela looked up from her mother's latest missive and met Grace's dark, understanding eyes. She had shared a bit about her mother's attitude with the café owner before.

Clamping her teeth together, she nodded and sighed. "Yes. I wrote to her asking for marital advice...thinking it might bridge the gap between us a little. Her response...among other choice words...was for me to give up this 'lark', come home, and find a suitable 'normal' man."

The kind café owner smiled softly, wishing to encourage.

"Aw Dr. Mike, it's just that she don't know Sully yet. Once she meets 'im, she'll see he's a good man. And he _loves_ you. That right there should make a mama happy..."

Michaela smiled sadly and reached to place her hand on her friend's for a moment. "A _normal_ mother, but..." she paused, unsure how to verbalize her mother's foibles. "But as it stands, she may never avail herself of that privilege."

"Still sayin' she can't make it, huh?"

Nodding, Michaela began to fold the letter. "I'm afraid so."

Just then, the door to the street opened, tinkling the little overhead bell. The women looked over, both smiling as they saw the man walking their way.

"Sully," Grace greeted.

"Grace," he acknowledged with a quick grin her way before his eyes settled on Michaela.

"Can I getcha anythin'?" Grace asked before she took her leave, knowing the two would want to exchange some private words.

"Coffee's fine."

"You got it," she responded, though she knew it was a good bet that neither one heard her words. She chuckled softly as she made her way into the kitchen end to retrieve a cup.

"Hey," Sully murmured softly, gazing into the somewhat sad eyes of his lady. He had been hard at work on the homestead all morning and was taking a break to have an early lunch with Michaela.

"Hello," she returned, lifting her chin a bit to invite his kiss. He obliged, pressing his lips to hers for a long, soft, chaste moment.

When he pulled back, his eyes scanned hers and then fell to the envelope she was clutching and he immediately understood.

"Your Ma?"

She pressed her lips together and nodded, fighting the sudden burning in her eyes.

He clamped his teeth together, in truth wishing he could give the old battleaxe a piece of his mind, but knowing Michaela wouldn't want to hear such thoughts. He knew her tender heart was breaking because of her mother's attitude, so he scrambled for something to say to help.

Grace brought a cup just then and poured his coffee.

"You two ready for lunch?"

The couple glanced at each other. Michaela shrugged and gave a tiny nod.

Sully glanced up at Grace. "Two meatloafs, Grace. Please."

"Comin' right up," she replied, making her way to her kitchen and returning shortly with their orders.

They spent the next twenty minutes eating quietly, exchanging occasional words of small talk about the food, or the weather...anything but the subject burning on both of their hearts.

"Have you heard from Daniel?" Michaela asked at one point, knowing that Sully wouldn't take offense at the question – she knew he and Daniel had totally mended every fence since their engagement.

He took a bite of his food and nodded, reaching for his napkin. "Got a telegram yesterday. Said he hired an architect for the hospital project." Then pausing, he grinned mischievously and shot her a playful look. "Said he's gonna pay a visit today to a certain lady in Beacon Hill. Told me to wish him luck."

Michaela's expression was a mixture of mirth and unease. "He'll need it," she murmured, but managed a smile before taking another bite of her lunch.

Finally, after they were finished and the dishes taken away, they exited the diner and walked together around the building and into the clinic, just enjoying one another's company. It hurt Sully's heart to see his love so down. He watched her as she settled into her chair behind her desk and sighed sadly. After a moment, he moved near and knelt by her chair.

"I hate ta see ya like this," he murmured, raising a warm hand to gently caress her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

She met his eyes and forced a smile, striving to brighten her mood for his sake.

"I'm sorry. I should be used to this...I should let it just roll off like water off a duck," she joked, leaning slightly into his hand.

He shook his head, leaning in to give her lips a soft kiss. "Ya don't have to be sorry. She's your Ma. Of _course_ what she thinks is important to ya."

She smiled sadly into his eyes, thinking how lucky she was to have the love of this amazingly understanding man. "I just...I suppose I never pictured getting married without my mother being there. But, that sounds so childish. I'm a grown woman, with a life of my own." He nodded silently, allowing her to vent. "With Father gone...she's the only parent I have left," she added quietly.

Sully pressed his lips together and nodded understandingly. An instant later, Michaela realized how selfish that had sounded.

"Oh Sully...forgive me!" she murmured, searching his eyes. "Your parents are long departed, and here I'm complaining," she added, slipping her arms around his neck, and cradling his soft hair in her hands.

They held each other for several long moments, drawing strength and comfort from one another's arms, and each marveling at the feeling of completeness they felt.

"In my heart, I know where I want my mother and I to be...I just...don't know how we'll ever get there."

Finally drawing back, Sully gently pressed his forehead to hers. She opened her eyes, reaching out to take his suede medicine pouch in her hand, idly raising it to her cheek and breathing in its fragrant aroma, and wondering what he carried in it..._besides engagement rings,_ she mused with a soft smile. She was so accustomed to seeing him wear it as well as his buckskins and moccasins now, she barely remembered the crisply dressed lieutenant who captured her heart with a mere touch of his hands.

"Hey...you got any appointments scheduled?" he asked softly, picking up the long thick braid lying against her collarbone and caressing its texture with the pad of his thumb.

"No, not today. Though someone could walk in at any time. I was just going to clean the instruments...why?"

Making a spur of the moment decision, he leaned back and grinned at her.

"C'mon with me...let's go for a ride," he suddenly insisted, rising to his feet and extending a hand to her.

"Where? Right now?" Michaela sputtered, surprised.

"_Right now_," he insisted, determined to not take no for an answer.

She saw his determination and after a moment, acquiesced with a small half smile and placed her hand in his.


	52. Chapter 52

CHAPTER 52

Daniel glanced at the lady sitting by his side in the carriage, thinking once again what a stirringly beautiful woman she was - sparkling and intoxicating like champagne. He smiled as he remembered their waiter asking earlier in the evening if they would care to sample the restaurant's newest offering.

"Pink champagne?" Daniel had repeated, glancing across the table at his dinner companion.

Her eyes twinkled mischievously in the candlelight. "Why not? I'm always open for new experiences."

Each took a sip from their long-stemmed glasses, and smiled with identical nods to their server as they both found the taste quite...exhilarating.

Their night out on the town had been one of the most enjoyable outings Daniel had ever experienced with a woman and he was sorry it was coming to an end. Marjorie was so spirited, funny, and witty. They found they liked the same foods and enjoyed many of the same things. She was a wonderful dancer, and fit in his arms as if they were made for each other. He had discovered that away from the watchful eye of people who expected from her certain behaviors she could actually be quite sweet and agreeable, with just a touch of sass that he found irresistible.

He knew some people would think he had jumped too quickly from one Quinn sister to the other, but in truth, he considered them so vastly different as to be almost no comparison. Each was fascinating in her own way...but if he had to analyze his thoughts, it was as if Michaela were an exquisite, brightly lit star twinkling in the heavens – beautiful to gaze at and long for, but for him, totally out of reach. Marjorie, however, was like diamonds...or maybe _rubies_, since her hair was so vibrantly red...worthy of a man's attention, and possibly attainable for the right man with honorable intentions.

Marjorie turned her head at that moment and smiled when she met his eyes in the shadowed interior of the carriage. He returned the smile and looked away politely, thinking yet again that her ex-husband must be some piece of work that he hadn't appreciated the fine jewel he had once possessed. Daniel had not known Marjorie during her marriage to Everett, and therefore could not know the difference in her personality between then and now. Having been thoroughly unhappy, Marjorie's disposition had always been quite disagreeable, resulting in the eventual disintegration of her marriage. But after experiencing a catharsis – and especially since returning from her trip out west, she was quite different now, to everyone's continued surprise.

Marjorie kept her eyes on Daniel's profile after he turned politely away, marveling once again at the handsome specimen of a man sitting mere inches from her in the gently jostling conveyance. The night of dinner and dancing had been so incredibly enjoyable for her; she could honestly say she had never enjoyed the company of a man more than she had Daniel's. The more she came to know and learn about him, the more perfect he seemed. He was a fascinating combination of rugged male who wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty and work hard – and refined gentleman who could hold his own in any conversation or situation.

At one point in the evening, she had asked him where he had acquired such exquisite table manners and dancing skills. He had smiled his charming, disarming grin and gave a relaxed shrug as he whirled her gently around the dance floor.

"Well...after I sold my gold mine, I wanted to travel to places I'd heard about. I went to San Francisco, for one, and met up with a friend from back home in New York...her name's Monique. She kinda took me under her wing, taught me stuff like what fork to use...how to not step on a lady's toes," he added with a chuckle.

"Monique?" Marjorie commented surprised at the fierce jab of jealousy that ripped through her upon hearing the name.

"Yeah," he answered, grinning down into her very expressive blue eyes. He hadn't missed the jealous spark. "She owns a dress shop, and she's made dresses for all of the rich ladies in town..." he paused as he watched the wheels turning, then decided to douse the flame before it exploded. "She's married, in her fifties, with gray hair and stands about this tall," he finished, pointing to a button on his vest about six inches lower than Marjorie's eye level. "Her and her husband never had any kids. They lived in a house not far from the docks...used to help us out now and then," he added, a soft smile gracing his lips as he remembered those days so long ago.

"I see..." Marjorie had responded, actually blushing a little when she realized he had read her thoughts.

He seemed so knowledgeable about a vast amount of subjects, not a man who had poured all of his energies and learning into one basic area – like Everett.

She suppressed a tiny shudder at even thinking the name of her ex-husband, her gaze dropping to Daniel's tanned left hand lying relaxed on his thigh. Her eyes twinkled as she imagined that hand sporting a wide, gold wedding band...

The thought shocked her, as she had vowed never to marry again, believing that all men were worthless and not to be trusted. Could she have really stumbled upon the man destined to be her mate – half way across the country? His presence here in Boston and the obvious pains he had taken to fit into 'her' world spoke volumes of his thoughts and intensions, and she dearly wished she could read his mind just then and ascertain his plans.

He turned his head again and caught her watching him.

"I've had a marvelous time tonight, Daniel," she murmured softly.

He smiled his most disarming grin and reached for one of her hands, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss, which sent sparks up her arm.

"Me, too, Marjorie," he murmured, smiling as she demurely pulled her hand from his.

Just then, the Quinn's chauffeur pulled the black covered carriage to a stop at the front of the brownstone mansion. Daniel hopped out and extended a hand to assist the lady.

They were smiling happily when they entered the door, but both smiles instantly evaporated. Elizabeth Quinn was standing at the base of the stairs.

She eyed Daniel suspiciously, giving him the once over.

"Good evening, Mother," greeted Marjorie as she handed her wrap to Harrison, determined that her mother's sour expression would not spoil what had been a perfect evening. "I thought you would surely be in bed at this hour."

Elizabeth ignored the comment, choosing instead to glide across the space separating them and extend her hand politely to their visitor. Just an hour before, she had returned from spending the day with one of her other daughters, and had been informed that Marjorie was out with 'a gentleman caller.' Her interest, to say the least, was quite high. The man appeared to be well heeled and quite handsome, but she didn't recognize him as someone from their immediate sphere of influence...

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure..."

Daniel stepped forward and took her hand in his. "Daniel Simon, ma'am. And you must be Mrs. Quinn. I can see where Marjorie gets her beauty," he added with all the charm he could muster.

Immediately recognizing the name, Elizabeth's eyes showed reaction for a fraction of a second before she recovered her poise.

"Indeed. Thank you...Mr. Simon."

Then quickly making a decision, she turned to Marjorie and ordered in a tone that brooked no argument, "Bid your gentleman caller goodnight, Marjorie."

Marjorie's eyes widened at this dismissal. "Mother! I'm not a child to be ordered about!"

"_Marjorie_..." Elizabeth warned, flashing a look to let her daughter know in no uncertain terms that she had better not make a scene.

Deciding to remain a lady and not spoil the evening for her escort, Marjorie made the huge effort to swallow her exasperation, turning to Daniel as she smiled and held out her hand.

"Goodnight, Daniel. Thank you for a lovely evening."

Daniel took her hand and lifted it to his lips, giving it another light kiss. "Goodnight, Marjorie...and, I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, at ten," she corroborated with a nod and a small smile.

Then with a glare at her mother, Marjorie turned and flounced up the stairs as the two below watched her ascend to the second level and disappear from view. Turning, Elizabeth requested in a controlled tone, "Would you give me a few minutes of your time...Mr. Simon?" indicating with a sweep of her hand the lamp lit parlor.

Daniel gave a nod and a sweep of his own hand indicating for her to precede him. Knowing he was probably in for the grilling of his life, he followed in her wake, mentally preparing for battle.

She settled herself in a wingback chair and watched as he lowered himself into the one adjacent. Then without preamble, she began, "Forgive me for asking, but...weren't you at one point attempting to court another of my daughters...Michaela?"

Daniel looked down for a moment with a wry grin. "Yes ma'am...I was. But, Sully won that contest. And after a time, I come..._came_ to see that those two were meant to be together." Raising his head, he met her eyes seriously. "I've never seen two people more in love than your daughter and my best friend."

At her look of disgust, he added, "Sully'll do everything in his power to make your daughter happy."

"Well, I don't see how that is even remotely possible," she firmly disagreed. "From what I understand, the man has no visible means of livelihood, and his past is somewhat of a mystery. That is hardly the type of man I could approve of for my daughter's hand," she declared, raising her nose a fraction and delicately smoothing her skirt.

"I could tell you anything you'd like to know about Sully, if that would help any," Daniel offered magnanimously.

Elizabeth met his eyes, guardedly impressed with the honest integrity she saw within their depths. Affecting a practiced show of nonchalance, she flicked a hand with an air of insult. "Thank you, Mr. Simon, but I don't see where that would make any difference..."

"Mrs. Quinn..." he interrupted with a gentle firmness. "If you saw the two of them together, you'd see the truth. Sully...he saved Michaela's life, you know," he added. At her raised eyebrow, he continued, "When she came down with the grippe, we'd used up all the medicine and she was burning up with fever. There was nothing we could do for her. Sully...somehow he knew she needed him, and he showed up, took her to his friend the Cheyenne medicine man, and stayed up with her all night, taking care of her. When they brought her back the next day, her fever was down and she pulled through."

Elizabeth had sat in rapt attention, picturing the incident as if seeing it happen. No one had informed her of any of the details of the illness that had nearly taken her daughter's life. Encouraged by this, Daniel continued.

"As for Sully having no means of support...he'll figure something out. He's a hard worker, Mrs. Quinn. He'll do whatever needs to be done to make sure Michaela has everything she needs. We, uh..." he hesitated, wondering how much he should tell Sully's future mother-in-law. "Sully and me...Sully and _I_, grew up on the docks in New York. We were both ten when we lost our parents. We met in the orphanage." He paused as the difficult memories resurfaced.

"It was rough there, and well, we figured we'd do better by ourselves, so one night, we ran away. Found our way down to the docks, thinking we'd sneak on board a ship and get away. But that didn't happen," he added with a smirk. "So, we hung around there, sleeping in crates, eating what we could find, and...we grew up real quick. We were thirteen when we heard about the gold rush out in California, so we decided to head out for there. Worked our way across the country."

Elizabeth's eyes had grown larger by the sentence, amazed that two little boys had survived such a life. Having been raised in opulence, she could barely even imagine being in such need, and had never encountered such hardship. Her husband had, of course, in his medical practice, but he had never shared such details with his wife.

"We did just about anything we could find...slopping hogs, herding cattle, helping plant and harvest crops, building fences, what ever we could get – and Sully never turned down a job, no matter how little the pay or how backbreaking the work," he added in fierce defense of his best friend. "We made it to California, but never really latched on to anything there. Then in '59, we heard about gold bein' found at Pike's Peak in the Colorado Territory and figured we'd try our hand at that. All Sully ever talked about, though, was settling down in one place...having a home and a family. Now, it finally looks like it's his turn."

As he watched her mulling his words over in her mind, he added gently, "Seems to me your daughter's a lot like that. I watched her work herself into exhaustion during the epidemic. A lot of people would be dead now if not for her efforts. I've never met anybody quite like her, but I feel like she was born to be a doctor and to help people."

Thinking back to several times when he had observed Michaela's reaction to her mother's scathing letters, he wished he could make this woman see the damage her attitude was doing to two people he cared about.

"One thing I know, ma'am," he added carefully, "Your daughter wants your approval – and your blessing...very much. Very much," he added with a nod.

Elizabeth's eyes widened even more as she stared back into the sincere blue gaze of the man. Truly, that had been the farthest thing from her mind. She had always thought of her youngest daughter as being the 'rebel' in the family, uncaring of her mother's preferences or opinions.

Perhaps she had been wrong all these years? Was Michaela 'called' to be a physician, much like her father had been?

With a nod, she silently resolved to give the matter much thought.

OOOOOOOOOOO

Sully reached both hands to grasp Michaela's, pulling her up the last bit of incline at the top of a very rough path.

"My goodness, Sully," she sputtered as he released her hands. Straightening her skirt and smoothing back a lock of her hair, she asked, "How much farther?"

He smiled lovingly and took hold of one of her hands again, tugging her gently forward.

"We're here," he murmured as he steered her around a large bush. What opened up before them simply took her breath away.

They were standing in a small clearing at the precipice of a tall hill, affording them a view of the surrounding valleys and mountains that must surely be unsurpassed in all of Colorado. The sun, positioned low in the sky, was a red/orange ball that tinted the horizon as if it were on fire. As far as the eye could see, there was nothing but trees, creeks, hills, and sky.

Michaela had never experienced anything like the feeling the place gave her as she and Sully walked forward hand in hand...it made her feel the need to whisper, almost like a sanctuary. The air around her was crisp and clean. Nearly silent...yet it was almost as if she could hear soft, haunting music floating on the gentle breeze.

"It's beautiful..." she breathed.

He smiled and closed his eyes, breathing in the peace and tranquility.

After a few moments, he opened his eyes again, staring out at the amazing vista as the sun descended a tiny bit lower into far distant clouds. "It's the place I come when I lose my way and I have to find it again," he murmured softly.

Speechless, she could only allow her eyes to survey the majestic site as she felt his hand squeeze hers.

"I never showed anybody this place...not even Abigail," he offered just above a whisper, as if in answer to an unspoken question.

That admission sent a jolt through her conscience as she realized just what he had revealed. Remnants of doubts and fears receded as she absorbed the message, and she drew in a breath, unconsciously holding it as she turned to gaze at his profile. The moment was powerful...so potent it moved her to tears.

He felt her gaze and turned his head, meeting her eyes, each allowing the depth of their feelings to be revealed to the other...trusting...each baring their soul to their soul mate.

Wishing to ease and heal the hurt she had been feeling, and had worsened with each of her mother's letters, he turned toward her then and drew her into his arms, his eyes never wavering from hers.

"I'll be your family, Michaela. You and me...come what may. There's no maps...but together, we can get through anythin'...as long as we know that we can count on each other – if you're willin'."

Tears welled up as she clamped quivering lips, thinking what a special man he was...and how blessed she was to have been given such a gift as his unconditional love...

"I am," she whispered her answer.

He smiled lovingly and raised one hand to caress her cheek, then let it slip around to cup the back of her head as their lips touched and then gently melded together in a kiss that was somehow as glorious and reverent as the sunset itself – warm, serene, and breathtaking.

When finally they pulled back and met one another's gaze with soft, loving smiles, Sully gently guided her face to nestle into the curve of his neck.

Closing their eyes in total serenity, they stood thus until the color faded from the sky.


	53. Chapter 53

CHAPTER 53

Winter marched on, and Sully worked diligently repairing and improving on the homestead, almost to the point of obsession – but he wanted to give Michaela a nice home.

This was interspersed with time spent overseeing the construction of Daniel's new home, nestled within a lovely piece of property a few miles out of town on the road to Denver.

The former gold miner and one of the architects from the firm he had hired in Boston were hard at it, working on the preliminaries for the new hospital. Daniel had never been involved in such an undertaking, but learned quickly the amount of work it entailed. Needing someone he could trust to make sure the crew hired from Soda Springs did their work on his home correctly and in a timely manner, Daniel had persuaded Sully to be his onsite foreman, insisting he pay him for his time.

Though it would actually help him to afford materials for his own project, Sully had balked at first. But after a talking to by the ever-sensible Charlotte, he had accepted the offer.

The lovebirds spent as much time together as they could, on the rare occasion there were no patients in the clinic, and had been enjoying perfect camaraderie. Well..._almost_ perfect.

The only fly in the ointment for Michaela was that Sully steadfastly refused to accept any money from her for materials or supplies, holding on to his belief that he had to – at all costs – give Michaela that elusive feeling of _stability_. His reasoning was – how could she feel 'stable' if she was required to bring in financial help to keep them going? They had butted heads more than once on the subject.

Things came to a head on a somewhat warm day in February when Michaela, finding herself with an afternoon free of appointments, decided to make the trip out to the cabin, hoping to spend time with her fiancé.

As she turned the last curve onto the drive to the cabin she would call home in a scant three months, Michaela pulled Flash to a stop and sat with her hands on the pummel as she allowed her eyes to roam. Construction paraphernalia littered the yard, and the barn door was closed – she wasn't sure at first if Sully was even at home and belatedly realized he could very well be out at Daniel's home site.

Allowing Flash to meander to the porch, she dismounted and climbed the steps, casting her eyes around for any sign of Sully.

Then she noticed it.

Sully had built a brand new front door for the cabin – and in the top half he had inserted a lovely oval shaped window...complete with beveled and leaded glass. It gave the whole structure a feeling of near grandeur. She reached out and lovingly touched the cool surfaces of the glass, adoring the way the beveled edges of the various pieces reflected the green of the trees and even the blue of the sky. She was touched beyond words that he had thought to do this, knowing it was a gesture for her. She peered through its center glass, and then stepped to peek in the front window, but seeing no one, she clasped the handle and gave the door a gentle push.

"Sully?" she called softly, but got no response.

Entering slowly, her eyes adjusted to the difference in light and she gazed around at the transformed room. The furniture had been pushed away from the walls and it appeared as though he was in the midst of whitewashing the interior. She found she very much approved of the cleaner appearance it gave the walls around the fireplace.

Glancing around, she drifted over to the closed curtain hiding the alcove. Reaching out, she grasped the edge and tugged it aside, her mouth dropping open in pleased surprise as she saw that Sully had transformed the space into a freshly appointed kitchen. Half- finished cabinets lined the outer wall, a shiny new cooking stove stood to the left of the back door, and pantry shelves graced the third wall.

"Didn't know you were comin' out today," a smooth voice murmured from the vicinity of the front door.

She turned, a bit startled. Feeling as if she were caught 'snooping,' she felt herself blush. He was standing in the open doorway, hands behind his back, the light from outside casting his features into shadowy relief.

"S'pposed to be a surprise. It's one 'a your weddin' presents," he added. The warm timbre of his voice never failed to ignite imaginations that she found particularly stirring, and she felt her heart speed up unevenly. She glanced around a bit self-consciously, remembering the last time they were alone in the cabin together.

He slowly sauntered up to her and she found herself backed against the wall next to the cook stove, his hands and arms making a warm, intimate cage in which she was trapped. He smiled softly down at her, knowing he was making her feel flustered. The thought made him chuckle inwardly. This woman he loved was so accomplished in so many things...doctoring...talking about almost any subject...and yet still so innocent of the goings on between lovers. _Can she tell how much I want her? Does she even know what she does to me? Three more months...seems like forever..._

"It's beautiful, Sully," she murmured, both afraid and hoping that he would lean in and press his lips passionately to hers. The thought sent her nerves into instant alert. Though they had shared several very heated kisses, somehow the fact that they would be married in a scant three months made every touch and kiss seem that much more potent, as if they were hovering over an open keg of black powder and Sully was holding a lit match. She was afraid it wouldn't take much for their passions to explode. _Perhaps this wasn't a good idea, coming out here like this..._

"It _will_ be when I'm done," he replied to her compliment, unable to stop himself from moving a hand to caress her velvety smooth cheek with the backs of his fingers.

His touch made her breath catch and she awkwardly turned her head, one hand blindly grasping his forearm.

"Will you...show me what you've done so far?" she asked shyly, desperate to avoid that intoxicating stare, knowing he was so close he could probably feel her heart pounding. Memories of the passion shared between them the night he had proposed came blazing back into her memory. She felt her knees tremble.

He snickered softly, at once thankful for, and aggravated by, her sense of propriety.

Taking a small step back and lowering his arms, effectively releasing her from her 'cage,' he reached for one of her hands and raised it to his lips.

"Sure."

She cleared her throat and gave him a tiny smile as he turned them fully toward the confines of the new kitchen.

"I'm uh...gonna cut a window right here and put in cabinets with a sink..." he explained, gesturing to the side wall. "And a pump so's you can have runnin' water in the house," he added, rather proudly.

She smiled at this news, realizing she had dreaded having to carry water from the creek down the hill. "That sounds wonderful."

He nodded, pursing his lips as he guided her around the kitchen, showing her new items and asking her opinion on the arrangement. She was pleased with everything.

Next, he guided her into the main room and she stepped immediately to the open door, reaching out to touch the lovely window.

"Oh Sully...I love the new door, and this window...and what a difference it makes to the look of the house!" she gushed, turning her head to find him standing right behind her, arms crossed on his chest, just watching her. "I...I don't know which of your improvements I like the _most_," she added softly.

He smiled lovingly, in truth thrilled with her response. He had been chomping at the bit to show her and see her reaction to all of his work.

"I'm glad ya like it...soon as I saw it in a catalog Loren had, I knew I had ta get one and put it on our door...for you," he paused, gazing into her eyes. "I had it shipped all the way from Chicago to a shop in Denver...that's where I was comin' from when I got caught by that blizzard on Christmas Eve. I just kept thinkin' that I had ta get your window home safe...it helped me keep pushin' on..." he murmured, remembering the trip as one of the longest and coldest he had ever undertaken. She was remembering also – her worry when he was so long out in such weather.

"I want ya to be comfortable here...I want it to be a place that...you can be proud to call your home," he added, almost shyly.

Nearly speechless, she stepped to him and slipped into his arms, which he gladly opened.

"I'll be proud to call this my home, Sully – because the _man I love_ built it with his own two hands," she murmured softly. "I love the improvements you've made, for me...but I want you to know – _truly_, I would live with you in a teepee if the need arose." Tilting her chin, she invited his kiss and he didn't hesitate, leaning in to press his lips to hers. As always, their touch immediately began to make her melt and she sighed with pleasure as she allowed him to deepen the kiss. Things got hot rather quickly, however, and within moments, each knew they had better put on the brakes. Sully was the first to break the kiss, lovingly placing her face against his chest and wrapping his arms tighter around her.

She relaxed into his embrace, relishing his nearness and the feeling of _rightness_ she always felt in his arms. They stood together in the silence of the room for several moments.

"Whatdya think 'a this room now?" he asked, his voice a trifle hoarse. She opened her eyes and gazed again their surroundings.

"I love the look of the whitewashed walls. It makes everything feel clean and fresh," she complimented and he smiled in satisfaction.

"That's what I was workin' on...'fore nature called," he added with a smirk.

She blushed a tiny bit at his forthrightness. "May I watch you work?" she asked tilting her head and beaming up at him. He gave her a dimpled grin and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

"You can _help_ if you like. That is...if ya don't mind gettin' dirty," he chuckled as he disengaged himself from her arms and headed over to the half-finished wall.

She raised an eyebrow at his challenge and began to purposely roll up her sleeves.

OOOOOOO

"This bucket's about empty. Guess I better get ta mixin' some more," Sully murmured as he paused in his efforts on the wall next to the fireplace, rocking back on his heels and swiping his arm across his sweaty forehead.

"You used the last bag of lime on this batch, Sully," she informed him as she set the bucket down and stood up wiping her hands on a towel. "But I could take the buckboard and go into town for some more," she added, even as she was reaching back to untie her apron – one of her old ones that had become stained and she had relegated it her medical bag.

"Naw, don't bother," he muttered, flinging his brush into the practically empty bucket.

She shot him a glance with a raised eyebrow, quipping teasingly, "I'm perfectly capable handling the buckboard, Mr. Sully. I've done so on more than one occasion."

"It ain't that. It's just that I'm...I'm outta money right now and I ain't askin' Loren for credit," he mumbled, hating to have to reveal the woeful state of his finances.

"But Sully...I have the money right here to cover it," she countered, reaching for her string purse and showing him several dollar bills from inside.

"We've talked about this, Michaela. I ain't usin' your money for the house. Period," he stated firmly, casting her a glance with eyes that had turned a darker blue.

"But _Sully_! There is absolutely no reason..."

He held up his hand to cut her off. "It ain't up for discussion. I'm the _man_, and that's just the way it's gotta be."

They stared at each other across the space, placing their hands on their hips as each willed the other to see their side of the impasse.

She tried to read his expression, to see what underlying reason may be lurking there, and from out of nowhere a thought occurred.

"Is this because it isn't really _my_ home?" At his look of surprise, she continued, "I mean...you built this cabin for Abigail. Perhaps deep down, you resent my moving in? Having to change things for _me_?"

He dropped his hand and stared at her as if she'd grown two heads. "How can you ask me that?!" he asked incredulously.

"Because...it's what I feel. This is Abigail's house, not mine," she stated firmly. Then casting her eyes around, she wrapped her arms over her chest and gave a shrug, admitting, "Sometimes I can feel her presence still here..."

"That's _crazy_. And it ain't true," he declared. "Yer jus' lettin' yer imagination run away with ya."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," she murmured, tilting her head back a little, lips pursed. "But Sully... aren't we going to be partners? Doesn't that mean - in _everything_?"

"That ain't how I do things, Michaela. I took care of my wife before, and I'm gonna take care of _you_, too. That's the way it's _supposed_ ta be_,_" he added, clamping his lips together as he tried to control his temper.

"Sully...Abigail didn't work outside the home, but _I_ do...I make a fair amount in my practice. What is so wrong about me contributing to expenses pertaining to our home? David would have welcomed it. Why can't you let go of this stubborn..." she argued, but he raised his hand again to cut her off.

"I ain't _David_," he countered, his eyes having taken on the hue of hard sapphires. "And folks don't change, Michaela."

"Of course they do, if they _want_ to!" she returned, her ire rising. "_Clearly_ you _don't_."

Staring at each other, breathing heavily in their anger, each could see the other was not about to back down. Sully took in a deep breath and tried to soften his tone to reason with her. "Look. You don't try to change me, and I won't try to change you. How's that?"

Exasperated, she clamped her hands back on her hips. "Not acceptable," she declared firmly. _Two can play this stubbornness game._

He let his head tilt back in frustration, a bit shocked that their idyllic afternoon had taken such a turn.

"Well, that's all I gotta say," he growled, allowing his eyes to rake over her once before stalking to the kitchen door and yanking it open.

"Sully!" she called as she followed him out into the yard.

He kept going.

"Sully, where are you going? We haven't settled anything!" she hollered angrily at his retreating back, but he merely pivoted, stared at her for a few moments, then turned and disappeared into the woods.

Curling her hands into fists, she clamped her lips together and huffed angrily, shaking her head at his obstinacy. Grumbling unintelligible words about infuriating, bull-headed men, she turned on her heel and stepped back inside, slamming the door shut behind her.

OOOOOOOO

Sully kicked the toe of his moccasin against a clump of dirt as he stalked through the trees, stewing.

After he had gone a hundred yards he was sorry he'd stalked off and left her alone, but his pride kept his feet moving in the same direction - _away_. In truth, he wasn't angry at _her_, but at the _situation_ that made him feel off kilter, inadequate, and undeserving of taking her as his wife. Daniel, upon his return from Boston, had regaled him with tales of the opulence in which the Quinn girls had been raised. That had only reinforced in his mind that he had to, at all costs, provide her with the easy lifestyle to which she was accustomed.

The old feelings of lack from his past kept up a relentless knocking at the door of his present. Memories of his childhood rose to the surface...always being in need – of food, clothing, money, and everything it took to make it. Then his young adult years, of he and Daniel scrambling to survive and taking every sweaty, filthy job they could find just to get by, yet never quite having enough. Things had eased for a while when he became a silver miner, got married, and built the homestead...until his happiness had been yanked away one awful night. The army had provided his basic needs, but he could never save money from his pay sack to gather together a nest egg. Now, he was still living hand to mouth. Never had he been able to get ahead. For a moment, a sharp pang of jealousy burned in his heart as he thought about his best friend being rich.

Again he kicked out, sending a pebble shooting across the path. This wasn't getting him anywhere. He needed to talk to someone who could help him make sense of this...put things in perspective.

His face set determinedly, he changed course and headed for the reservation.

OOOOOOOO

"My brother, you have said you do not want Dr. Mike to change _you_ – yet you desire change from _her_," Cloud Dancing calmly pointed out as the two walked the stream near the camp.

Sully shot his friend a glance. "Whaddya mean?"

"Dr. Mike has a profession, one that brings in money. When she is your wife, will you tell her to stop being a doctor?"

"No, of course not!" Sully immediately countered.

"Then what will she do with the money she makes?"

"Well...I don't know...buy dresses and hats and..._stuff_," Sully groused, suddenly picturing a future where he had no money to buy food for the two of them, but her string purse overflowed with currency. The image made him feel a bit sick.

"And this will please you?" the wise Cheyenne asked. "It is the Cheyenne way that both the husband and the wife contribute to the running of the household. The man provides the meat and skins, and protection from enemies, but the woman is expected to take care of many duties. She tans the hides, gathers firewood, carries water, makes clothing, cooks, cleans, and cares for the children. In this way, they are partners." He paused a minute, watching a myriad of emotions on his brother's face. "Is it not this way among the whites?"

"Well, yeah...most 'a the time" Sully hedged. "But, Michaela...she was raised rich...she never had to do all that stuff..."

"But now that she has made her home here, she has learned many skills, has she not? She is not afraid to, as you say, 'get her hands dirty'? Has she not chosen to forsake the lifestyle of her early years and adopt the ways of the west?" He queried matter-of-factly.

Sully nodded and gave a slight shrug, feeling both resentment at his brother's blunt assessment, and relief to be discussing the situation with another man.

Cloud Dancing nodded, walking along with his friend in silence, allowing Sully to process. Glancing up in the trees overhead, he noticed a set of mocking birds chirping at each other, as if arguing. The wise older man smiled softly and glanced at his brother again, gesturing upward.

"Even in nature, mates must learn to understand the thoughts and intentions of the other. It took Snowbird and I many moons to realize we no longer rode separate horses. Dr. Mike has given you many signs that she will be content in her life with you, but you have closed your ears to this. You have allowed a word spoken during a time of confusion in her life to become a thorn in your side. The spirits say it is time to pull out this thorn and toss it into the fire."

_Stability..._Sully mused, the memory of the moment she said it still able to twist like a knife in his gut.

As if hearing his thought, Cloud Dancing added sagely, "Her stability will come from your _love_. It gives her things that money cannot buy."

The wise Indian correctly read on his younger friend's face that he was fighting within himself to believe the truth.

With one last push, the medicine man laid a hand on his brother's shoulder, adding, "If a wealthy husband was all she wanted, she would have married your friend Daniel."

With that, he veered off in another direction, leaving Sully to pause in his tracks and stare after him in wonder.


	54. Chapter 54

CHAPTER 54

Michaela had waited at the homestead for several hours after Sully's abrupt desertion, during which time she experienced a myriad of emotions - anger, frustration, empathy, worry, and finally resignation.

Sitting down at the table, she had made several attempts at writing him a note, but nothing she thought of seemed right. Each rewrite was tossed into the fire. If it had been a case of needing to apologize, that would have been easy. But the problem between them amounted to his stubborn pride, and that resided between his ears. No, he would have to work it out himself.

As the sun began to set, Michaela quietly gathered her things and walked to the door, pausing for a moment to gaze around the cabin, trying to picture the two of them there together, happy and content. _We will get that chance...won't we?_

With a sigh, she opened the door and closed it securely behind her, stepping out onto the porch and bundling up against the cool February breeze.

She mumbled a quick prayer for Sully's safety and descended the steps, mounted Flash, and headed back to town, immensely disappointed that what had started out as a wonderful afternoon so quickly turned sour.

She wondered what would happen when she saw him next.

OOOOOOOO

By the morning of the second day after their quarrel, Sully still had not seen fit to seek her out. The longer the time stretched, the more frustrated Michaela became. Finally, she asked Robert E. to saddle Flash for her, and determinedly set her face toward the homestead. As she drew closer to her destination, she steeled herself to make Sully talk the problem out.

Her father had always taught her that people should talk out their differences, whether it was two friends, lovers, or siblings. This penchant Sully had for going off alone to sulk and not wanting to 'discuss' a problem really set her teeth on edge. _We won't have a successful marriage unless he learns to communicate!_ She fumed as she rode along.

Finally the large bushes at the head of the access road to his property came into view and she braced herself for a confrontation. Allowing Flash to ease to a stop at the porch, she glanced around the yard. It didn't look any different from the previous time she was there, and with a sinking feeling, she began to fear that Sully had not returned to his home.

Hastily dismounting, she checked the house and the barn, even called out to him, but got no response. Now, she wondered if she should be worried. No one could take better care of themselves than Sully, but still...

After a few minutes contemplation, she clamped her lips in determination and remounted Flash, turning in the direction of the reservation. _Even if he isn't there, perhaps Cloud Dancing will have an idea where he went..._

OOOOOOO

Sully held the door flap of the teepee open to allow the lovely young raven-haired Cheyenne woman to exit. He followed her out, smiling down at her as she turned to gaze up into his face.

"Hahóo..._Otá'taveaénohe_," [Thank you..._Blue Hawk]_ she murmured, her eyes twinkling as he chuckled in response.

"Hóveto máse, Aénôhéso," [You're welcome, Little Sparrow] he returned, adding, "Vóešetanó véstahe," [Happy to help].

In Cheyenne, she murmured, "Many Bears would be dead right now if it were not for you." Removing a necklace from around her neck, she reached up to place it over his head. "My brother made this for me, for my celebration...when I became a woman," she told him in Cheyenne and sign, slowly so he could follow her words. "It is from my heart to yours, to thank you. Though your skin is white...you are Cheyenne...in here," she murmured, placing her hand quite familiarly on his chest, her fingertips touching his bare skin inside the unbuttoned cloth. He smiled at the compliment and lifted a hand to cover hers, quite touched, as Cloud Dancing had warned him it might take the people a long time to accept his presence in their midst.

"Hahóo," he whispered, and then removed one of the necklaces Cloud Dancing had given him, placing it reverently over her head. "This was the first gift my brother gave me. It will...protect you," he explained in her language, knowing he should satisfy the Cheyenne's custom of a gift for a gift.

She fingered the beads and smiled up at him again. Hearing Cloud Dancing call his name, he turned his head to glance at the door of the teepee and she spontaneously stretched up, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek.

Before he could react, however, a quick intake of breath from somewhere behind and to his left made him turn his head toward the sound. His eyes widened in shock to see Michaela, his Heartsong, his _fiancée, _standing not twenty feet away, her eyes and mouth round with shock.

"Oh no..." he whispered, disengaging himself instantly from the young woman and turning toward his love. He took a step toward her with a hand outstretched, but she shook her head and backed up, lifting a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Turning, she began to run full speed back to where she had tied Flash with the other horses.

"Michaela!" Sully called as he chased after her. "Michaela, _wait_!" he yelled again, increasing his pace to intercept her.

Cloud Dancing and Snowbird immerged from the teepee and flanked Little Sparrow, the three watching the white couple until they were out of sight.

Cloud Dancing turned and met his wife's eyes, eyebrows raised and lips clamped together. "Spirits be with him. He has stuck his hand into a hornet's nest that was hidden. I have done that myself," he muttered in Cheyenne.

"Yes, you did, several times," Snowbird teased, giving her husband a nudge. "For Sully's sake, I hope Dr. Mike is more understanding than I was," she added as Little Sparrow giggled at the Medicine Man and his wife.

Michaela reached her horse and blindly, through tears, felt for the pummel, lifting one foot to the stirrup. But before she could hoist herself up, she felt Sully's strong arms wrap around her waist from the back.

"It ain't what you're thinkin'!" he insisted as he hauled her against his chest.

"Let me _go_," she hissed through gritted teeth, jerking her body back and forth, trying to break his hold as her emotions fanned into a roaring flame.

"_Not till you listen_..." he murmured near her ear.

"I don't care to hear anything you have to say!" she interrupted, trying to get free, her fingers working frantically to pry his arms loose.

"Well, you're _gonna_! Now quit fightin' me," he ordered, albeit gently, pleadingly.

"Why, so I can be made a _fool_ of again?" she groused.

"Is that how you see it?" he whispered against her cheek, his arms clamped like vices around her middle. He wasn't about to let her get on her horse and high tail it back to town. _No, this ain't gonna turn into a big deal that could break us up, I'm gonna nip it in the bud right now._

Realizing she couldn't get loose unless she did something to cause him physical pain, she ceased her struggles. "I know what I saw. And to think I had been worrying about you, thinking you were hurt or something had happened. I rode all the way out here to find you...to talk to you...to try and settle our differences..."

"And I want that, _too_. Believe me or not, I was just about to come see ya..."

"Well, I _don't_ believe it," she argued, turning her face from any contact with his. _How could he...__**kiss**__ that Indian girl? After all of the things we've said to each other... After telling me over and over that I'm his 'Heartsong' and his heart belongs to me... Was I a fool to believe him? Could he and that girl have been...lovers...when he lived with them those three months? Could he have returned to her because we argued… about money, of all things! _ Tortured by her thoughts, she stood rigid in his arms, trembling with barely controlled anger.

Recognizing she had stopped resisting, Sully released her and turned her to face him, but instead of finding the anger he had expected to see in her eyes, he encountered a look of sheer emotional agony. Her cheeks were wet with tears. It hit him hard, as if she had reached inside his chest and squeezed his heart unmercifully.

"Oh 'Chaela..." he murmured softly, raising a hand to gently brush a teardrop from her cheek.

That shortened, familiar way he had of saying her name always made her melt. Fighting its power, she closed her eyes and clamped her teeth.

"Chaela...look at me..." he pleaded softly, gently caressing her face.

"No...you hurt me, Sully," she whispered, resisting the urge to lean her cheek into his warm palm. _Oh why did this have to happen?_

"I didn't know she was gonna _do_ that..." he offered, thinking it was merely the kiss she was upset about.

Her eyes opened then and met his, searching their concerned blue depths. "I don't mean only that. You...you became angry and left me alone at the homestead...you never came back...and now I find you in the arms of another woman..._kissing_ her..." she murmured miserably, watching his eyes react to the last statement.

"_She_ kissed _me_, on the cheek_. _And I wasn't _'in the arms of another woman'_," he stated categorically.

She stared at him, shocked that he would try to deny it. "I _saw_ you, remember? What else am I supposed to think?"

His mouth formed a tiny smile as he gazed down into her moist eyes, wishing he could just kiss away the sadness he knew he had caused.

As she drew in a breath to continue, he forged on, "What you saw was Little Sparrow thankin' me for savin' her brother's life. I threw a blanket on a coiled rattler yesterday, just it was about to strike him."

She continued to search his eyes, desperately longing to believe him...but there was more...

"And giving her your necklace...the one that Cloud Dancing gave you?" she pointed out, remembering when he had shown her the item and knowing how much it had meant to him.

"She gave _me_ one," he instantly countered. "The Cheyenne believe you should return a gift with a gift."

She rolled her eyes and looked away for a moment, her gaze coming back to settle on a bit of his chest hair peeking out of the open front of his shirt and jacket.

"She...she put her hand on your chest...inside your shirt," Michaela argued softly as she chanced a look up into his eyes again, surprised that her anger was dissipating under his steady gaze and sensible answers.

He smiled softly and reached for one of her hands, placing it on his chest the same way Little Sparrow had done. "She was tellin' me that even tho' I'm white, my heart is Cheyenne. It was the nicest compliment I ever got," he added with a grin.

Somehow, that stung and caused another intake of breath. _His heart is Cheyenne? _

"Sometimes I can't help but wonder if you'd rather just stay out here with them...they're your family now..." she whispered, looking away.

He touched her cheek ever so gently with the tips of his fingers, softly guiding her face back so her eyes met his again.

"_You're_ my family, too. When you gonna realize...my heart's yours now," he whispered, allowing her to see clear through his eyes and into his heart.

Clamping her lips together, Michaela took in a shuddering breath. "Oh Sully...why did you go away and not come back that day? And why...why won't you discuss with me the...the problem between us?"

He shut his eyes for a moment and let his head tilt back as he gathered his thoughts with a sigh. Yes, he had stayed away...stayed the night in his teepee as he worked his way through the logjam of his emotions. Reminding himself of Cloud Dancing's advice, he met her gaze again and murmured, "I'm sorry I left like that. I was just...so _mad_..." At her look, he amended, "Not at _you_...at _myself_. See..." he paused, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her against his body as his hand on her face lovingly brushed back a lock of her hair. "I...I wanna give ya the kind of life you're used to...but I can't and I..."

She shook her head, interrupting. "Sully, none of that is important to me..."

Pressing his lips together for a moment, he decided to admit everything. "I know ya want _stability_..."

Her eyes grew large as their conversation all those months ago in her quarters at the fort came rushing back, remembering how she had foolishly hurt this man she loved. Until that moment, she had not realized just how deeply he had taken her comment to heart.

"Oh Sully, I'm sorry. It was foolish of me to say that. But...I was fighting with my conscience...thinking I was obligated to marry David and grasping at reasons to do so...even though I had fallen in love with another man," she explained softly, choosing to bare all to him. "I was so in love with you, but my strict upbringing insisted that I honor my pledge to marry David – though that was the farthest thing from what my heart wanted. But...you hadn't told me _your_ feelings – and I wasn't sure you felt about _me_ the way I felt about _you_. I was frightened that I would end up back in Boston...unable to practice medicine, and...an old maid," she added with her half grin.

He chuckled and shook his head, thinking this gorgeous woman, his beautiful Michaela, could never be relegated to such an existence. No, she was born to be a wife, a lover..._his _wife and lover.

"No way was _that_ gonna happen," he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips, and was very relieved when she reciprocated.

Leaning back, he wrapped both arms around the small of her back, pulling her even closer into the curve of his body. She smiled up at him, her hands on his chest.

"Well, I made a decision last night..." he began. "I promise to let ya help on stuff when ya want to, and I've got some ideas how I can make more money. Robert E.'s told me before that he needs help now and then...Loren told me about the hotel in Manitou needin' some work done and maybe some new furniture pieces...and I'll let it be known around town that I'm willin' ta do extra work..." he paused, smiling as her eyes sparkled at his news. "I'll do anythin' I have to – dig ditches, shovel horse biscuits – whatever it takes to keep you happy."

At that, her brows furrowed and she instantly raised a hand to caress his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

"Oh Sully, please hear me. You make me happy just by loving me, believing in me, allowing me to be who I _am_. I learned a long time ago that _things_ alone do not make a person happy. A house full of lovely crystal, china, and furniture is a cold, unfriendly place without love and understanding." She paused, watching the play of emotions in his eyes as he strove to believe her words.

Stretching up, she touched her lips to his, the contact feather soft, but full of devotion, then pulled back a bit to vow as her eyes held his gaze, "If I had to choose, I'd live the rest of my life in your teepee with you...as long as you never stopped loving me."

The sincerity in her expression melted his heart and the last shreds of his insecurities and he smiled softly, turning his head to press a kiss to her fingers, murmuring, "How'd I ever get so lucky?"

With a bit of sass, she quipped with a raised eyebrow, "On that, I'd say we can...call it even."

The twinkling blue of his eyes worked their magic on her again and she could only smile dreamily as he leaned in for a soft kiss to seal their words, both extremely relieved that their quarrel was resolved. In a moment, the kiss deepened, arms wrapping around each other as they forgot their surroundings and gave in to their irresistible attraction.

Neither was aware of two pairs of eyes watching fondly from behind a tree many yards away.

Satisfied that their friends were back to normal, Cloud Dancing and his wife exchanged knowing smiles and slipped silently away.


	55. Chapter 55

A/N – Just want to say thank you to everyone who has reviewed, from several words to paragraphs, lol, and to the dear friends who send me reviews via email or on the forum. I appreciate each and every compliment and encouraging word to let me know I'm on track with this story and the time I put into it (away from hubby and responsibilities, lol) is worth it. Thanks!

CHAPTER 55

Weeks passed slowly until it was finally the first week of May.

All through the spring they had both been so busy...Michaela with her patients, several small health crises at the reservation, and the wedding preparations, and Sully juggling the work on the homestead, his work as foreman over the construction of Daniel's large home, and the various jobs he had undertaken to raise needed cash. That left barely any time to spend together, other than an occasional evening meal at the boarding house whenever he could get free.

Michaela had grown very close to Charlotte and the kids, closer than she was with any of her sisters, nieces and nephews, and with the addition of Dorothy and Daniel, it felt like a large, happy family living there at the boarding house. So much so, that the occasional paying guest passing through felt a bit out of place.

In spite of that, however, there had been times when Sully had caught his beloved fiancée gazing at nothing, lost in thought and dispirited. Knowing the problem – that of her family's refusal to accept their engagement or attend their wedding, he found himself at his wits end to try and lift her spirits. Personally, he wouldn't care two bits if no one came to the wedding, but he knew it was very important to his Michaela.

Finally, the first Sunday in May as they departed the church after the sermon and shook the Reverend's hand, Sully drew her to the side away from the others.

"I got a surprise for ya," he murmured, taking her hand and pressing it to his lips as he stared into her eyes. As always, the incredible blue of his gaze made her heart race. "Come with me on a picnic?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows and motioning toward a conveyance parked near the bridge.

Michaela's eyes lit up. "A picnic? Now?" she asked, intrigued. One eyebrow rose and she glanced around. "Just the two of us?"

Grinning in that cute way that made his dimples more pronounced, he murmured, "Yep. C'mon," as he grasped her hand and began tugging her toward the two-seater 'doctor's buggy' he had borrowed from Robert E.

"But...you never mentioned...I'm not dressed for...where are we going..." she sputtered, giggling as he hauled her along behind him.

"Michaela, Sully! Ain't you gonna eat with us?" Dorothy called, but before Michaela could respond, Sully pivoted and grinned at their friend, calling, "Nope. Got plans."

"Well, where do you suppose those two are off to?" Dorothy murmured, casting a glance at her companions – Charlotte, Colleen and Daniel, who shrugged, but exchanged conspiratorial grins.

Reaching the vehicle, Sully wasted no time hoisting his lady up onto the seat, quickly climbing up next to her, and taking hold of the reins, giving them a sharp flick.

As the buggy sprang forward, Michaela grasped its roof support, chuckling softly. "My goodness! Are we in a hurry?"

He grinned again and shot a sideways glance at her, admitting with a wink, "Yep. Wanna get'cha outta town 'fore somebody can yell for Dr. Mike."

"Well...that _is_ a consideration," she pointed out. "Just how far are we going?"

He kept his gaze straight ahead, negotiating the bridge. "Far enough so we won't be bothered." Then before she could argue or fuss, he added, "Daniel knows where we're goin', in case of some kind 'a emergency. But I done warned him it better be life or death," he added with a snicker.

That promise easing her conscience, she nodded and settled comfortably back against the seat, slipping her hand around his arm and giving it a loving squeeze.

"In that case, I'm in your hands, Mr. Sully."

Sully glanced her way again, his lips curved in a contented smile as he suppressed the thoughts her words conjured, choosing instead to answer, "That you are, Dr. Quinn."

After that, they rode in companionable silence, enjoying the day, their only words those of sweet nothings, or Sully pointing out something of interest in the distance. Michaela especially enjoyed the relaxing excursion; the weather was perfect, and just being able to be alone with Sully and have his undivided attention made it more than wonderful.

They traveled quite a distance, far out into open territory. Michaela had no idea where they were going, but wasn't nervous in the least. She trusted that her handsome fiancé knew exactly what he was doing – and that he would remain a perfect gentleman. As they rode along, she couldn't help but make a comparison to the hours they had spent side by side in the wagon on the way to Bowie, thankful that this trip was much cooler – _and I'm so glad I'm not wearing that awful corset! _she thought with a silent chuckle.

They rounded a bend past a long stand of trees, and suddenly the most breathtaking vista Michaela had ever seen encompassed her field of vision. Outstandingly beautiful sandstone hills rose over three hundred feet tall, displaying their vivid vermilions, oranges and purples. The afternoon sun shining down on the landscape perfectly highlighted the exquisite colors and textures as far as the eye could see - thousands of acres of amazing rock formations.

"Oh Sully..." Michaela breathed, truly speechless in the face of such unexpected beauty.

Sully smiled indulgently, gazing at their surroundings before turning his attention to the beauty in the seat next to him, which in his opinion surpassed anything nature could offer.

"Been wantin' ta show you this for a while. They call this place the 'Garden of the Gods'."

"It does seem a fit place for God and His angels to assemble," she agreed softly. "It's so beautiful...almost as lovely as your 'special place'," she added, casting him a shy smile. He flashed her a grin, then hopped down from the buggy and reached inside, his strong hands gripping her waist and lifting her out easily, as if she weighed nothing. As her feet touched the ground, he paused with his hands still at her waist and leaned his head down for a soft kiss.

"C'mon. Let's go sit up on that ridge, in the shade of that big rock," he encouraged as he rounded the buggy and reached into a large box tied on the back, from which he retrieved a quilt and picnic basket. Handing Michaela the coverlet, he took her hand and tugged her toward the rock outcropping. She followed obediently, starry eyed by the setting and her companion.

Sully had sweet-talked Charlotte and Colleen into preparing a sumptuous picnic lunch, about which Michaela was delighted when she began to help him spread out on the quilt a tempting fare of fried chicken, potato salad, home baked bread, baby carrots to munch on, and apple pie for dessert. There was even a jug of Grace's apple cider.

The sweethearts spent the next few hours lounging on the cover, enjoying the lovely breeze and feeding each other nibbles of their delicious meal. Sully, determined to lift Michaela's spirits, regaled her with humorous stories from his mining days and his adventures as a young man coming West.

Some time later, comfortably full and basking in the joy of being together, the couple lay side by side on the quilt holding hands, fingers entwined, watching the clouds move slowly overhead or an occasional eagle soaring high above. They spotted a pair of hawks floating on the breeze together, in tandem, and spoke in whispered awe of the display. The significance was not lost on Sully, as Cloud Dancing had recently told him that hawks mate for life.

The screeching cry of the male hawk echoed off the flaming orange walls and Sully..._Blue Hawk..._immediately understood – the bird of prey was supremely proud of his beautiful mate and wanted the world to know how much he loved her...that just being with her afforded him such joy it was impossible to stay silent.

With a smile, Sully turned on his side to face his lady, propping his head on one hand and reaching out to smooth a lock of her hair to one side, the backs of his fingers caressing her downy soft cheek.

The hungry look in his gaze normally would have frightened her, but he had promised early in their engagement that he would not allow their relationship to go farther than what was proper before their wedding. In innocent trust, she gazed up at him, marveling that his irises matched the vivid blue of the sky behind his head.

Lifting her left hand to join with his, her eyes overflowing with emotion, she whispered, "Thank you, Sully, for arranging such a beautiful afternoon."

His lips moved into a lazy smile and his eyes twinkled as he whispered back, "You're welcome."

After a moment, though, he detected the slightest hint of sadness in those beautiful two-toned eyes he adored.

His brow furrowed just a bit. "What'cha thinkin' about?" he murmured softly, though he had a good idea.

She pressed her lips together for a moment, then moved her head in the negative, whispering, "Nothing." Unwilling to spoil the perfect day, she tried to turn her head, but a gentle finger under her chin encouraged her to remain. His steady gaze and tiny pout, however, let her see he was not going to let it pass.

She let out a soft sigh, murmuring just above a whisper, "I just keep thinking...it won't be the same without...my family. I always pictured they would be there the day I wed...the man I love."

"Still no word?" he asked softly, his heart aching for the pain he saw in her eyes.

She shook her head. He pressed her hand to his lips, offering, "Well then...I'll be your family."

At that, she smiled softly, and gently caressed his lips with the pad of her thumb; his response was an immediate kiss to the digit.

"You're right. We don't need anyone else. All I care about is being your wife...you being my husband." His eyes sparkled at that. She added with a twinkle, "I can't wait until you slip a wedding band on my finger."

It was just the opening he'd been waiting for.

"Speakin' of that..." he murmured, sitting up and pulling her with him.

"Sully...what?" she stammered as he reached inside the medicine pouch hanging around his neck.

He palmed an object as he reached for her left hand, his fingers carefully removing the hand carved engagement ring he had placed there six months before.

"Sully! My ring..." she protested, but he only grinned, reaching over and sliding it deftly onto the appropriate finger of her right hand.

Then he took her left hand again and slid a diamond ring in the other's place.

"Sully...an engagement ring?" she whispered. He nodded as he took her hand in his, almost as if they were about to say their vows.

"I bought it for ya in Manitou when I did the work for that hotel...been waitin' for the right moment to give it to ya," he explained softly.

She pulled her hand gently from his and brought the ring close, instantly adoring the design and the fact that he had picked it out himself.

"It's beautiful...thank you," she whispered, meeting his eyes again. "But...I love the ring you _made_ for me..." she added softly.

He grinned again, reaching for her right hand and perusing the article, pleased with his workmanship. "It's a 'sweetheart' ring...for my _Heartsong_. But I never intended it to be a substitute for the real thing." Then wanting her to know the depth of his adoration, he added, "You deserve beautiful things, Michaela...gold, diamonds, pearls...things that show off how lovely you are. I wanna get'cha..." he began to add, but she stopped him with a finger against his lips as she shook her head.

"Sully, I don't need those things," she vowed softly. "I told you that. Please believe me. All I need is your love." She paused, allowing him to see in her eyes that she was not just saying words to make him feel better – she meant them down to her very soul. "Never stop loving me...and you'll make me the happiest woman alive," she added sweetly, but resolutely.

Pleased beyond words and once again amazed at this woman who would soon be his wife, he smiled softly and leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to her lips.

She melted, returning the pressure, and the kiss instantly deepened. In a flash, much like on the night they were engaged, they were sharing passionate, sensual kisses.

Instantly aroused, Sully lowered her to the quilt, never breaking the kiss. Devouring her mouth, his hands wildly caressed her soft tresses and roamed down to squeeze her waist and ribs as she entwined her fingers in the waves of his hair, each one letting caution fly to the winds. She felt him roll toward her, his leg burrowing between hers and capturing her thigh between his as he pressed familiarly against her. His weight pinning her down felt so heavenly; she slowly began to immerse herself in him, returning his affection with enthusiasm.

Then as he pressed in more firmly, losing himself in the ecstasy of the moment, she became aware of the unmistakable evidence of his desire making itself known against her thigh, even through the layers of fabric. The sensation sent sparks coursing through her body and she gasped into his mouth.

He broke the kiss for a moment, pulling back to gaze down into her eyes.

She was so lovely...so desirable...so incredibly sensual, he was completely enraptured, and he murmured a raspy, "God Michaela...you're so beautiful."

As he leaned down again to continue, she turned her face and his lips met her cheek.

"Oh Sully..." she breathed with a soft sigh of regret and longing, eyes closed as she fought a war in her conscience. Oh how she wanted to continue...but she knew, even as inexperienced as she was, that they were nearing the point of no return.

At her sigh, he immediately stopped and dropped his head to rest his forehead against her collarbone as he strove to tamp his desires back down. Then without warning he rolled, taking her with him as she gasped in surprise. He ended on his back with her body lying above his, her hips nestled between his thighs as he braced his feet on the ground.

The new sensation of her body positioned atop his sent more shards of excitement down her spine and she quivered in heightened awareness of just how dangerously close they were to stepping over that unseen line. _We're totally alone...no one would see or know..._ the lascivious thought tempted. _Our consciences would know...as would God... _she reminded herself sternly, though she was breathless with longing. Her fingers entwined in his soft, wavy hair as she hovered above him, nuzzling his cheek, the weight of her body pressing her breasts against his chest.

His hands caressed her back and neck as he fought to master the intense sexual frustration burning in his loins. _God, I want her so bad! _A soft, unconscious moan escaped his lips, and at that moment he knew he'd never craved anything more in his _life. _How would he ever make it through the remaining days until their wedding?

Moments passed as they slowly cooled, and finally Michaela pulled back enough to see his face, her eyes taking in the smooth, tanned complexion, the full lips whose sensuous shape irresistibly invited her kisses...the long black eyelashes. She saw the heat of passion flickering in those blue eyes, darkened by what she realized was lingering desire.

Once again, she marveled at this man she loved. Grateful for his inner integrity, she realized many men would have taken swift advantage of the situation.

"I never thought I could be this happy," she whispered, her eyes dreamy. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he murmured thickly. Then he smiled up at the woman he loved, such an intoxicating mixture of innocence and sensuality. He knew she really didn't fully know the extent to which she drove him crazy. Swallowing, he took a breath and whispered teasingly, "We better start packin' up, or we'll never make it back before dark."

"Indeed," she mumbled, flashing him one of her half grins he found absolutely irresistible.

With a chuckle, he planted a hard smack to the creamy skin of her neck and rolled them back over, sitting up and pulling her with him as they giggled conspiratorially and set about repacking the basket.

Michaela might have been surprised to know just how close she had come to being tossed over a strong shoulder and driven in the buggy to Denver for an impromptu elopement.

And over the course of the next two weeks, there would be times she wished Sully had done just that.


	56. Chapter 56

CHAPTER 56

Daniel smiled and gave a soft chuckle as he read the small yellow paper in his hand, for the third time.

"Somethin' funny?" a voice asked over his shoulder as a man took a seat at his table in Grace's café.

The tall sandy-haired man flashed his handsome grin at his best friend.

"Telegram from Marjorie," Daniel murmured, indicating the piece of paper.

"You two're gettin' pretty serious, ain't ya," Sully teased, stating the obvious.

Daniel gave a smirk as he thought of the red-haired woman who had captured his heart. "Maybe." Then meeting Sully's eyes, he added, "Those Quinn girls really know how to get under a fella's skin."

Their gazes held for a moment as each pictured the short time Daniel had thought himself in love with Michaela...the knock down, drag out fight the two men had at the dance, and the relief when it was all over and they were friends again.

Sully nodded once. "Yep, they shore do. But...I never woulda figured you and Marjorie..."

"Well see...Marjorie's words sometimes...um..." Daniel paused as he pictured her saying goodbye to him at the train station in Boston and fussing at the porter for some imagined mistake, all the while surreptitiously hiding the tears in her eyes at his departure. "They hide what she's really feelin'. She's been hurt a lot, and she got in the habit of reactin' like a cat with its tail stepped on..."

Sully chuckled in agreement, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "You got _that_ right."

Daniel laughed with him in shared camaraderie as Grace stopped by their table, grinning in reaction to their cheerfulness. "What can I get you two fellas on this fine afternoon?" she asked with a chuckle.

Sully looked around toward the clinic, his eyes searching for any sign of movement. "Um..."

"Dr. Mike said to tell you not to wait for her, she's had one emergency after another this mornin'," Grace offered.

Pressing his lips together for a moment in disappointment, he nevertheless flashed Grace one of his engaging grins. "Then I'll have the meatloaf, Grace."

"Same here," Daniel agreed, stashing the telegram in the pocket of his jacket. "And a piece of your delicious apple pie to boot."

"Make that two," Sully added.

"Two meatloafs and pie, comin' right up," Grace responded, slipping her pencil above her ear with her customary flourish and whirling around to head back toward her stove.

As the café owner moved away, Sully eyed his friend again.

"So...what'd Marjorie say?"

"That she'd see me for the upcomin' wedding...and that she was bringin' Michaela a surprise gift."

"Okay...so what was so funny?"

Daniel snickered and shook his head, knowing Marjorie wanted her surprise to be a secret from her sister. "That she couldn't change the _queen's_ mind."

Sully's brow furrowed as he digested this news, but wondered why Daniel would think it funny that Marjorie was unable to convince Elizabeth to attend her daughter's wedding.

Before either man could say anything else, they were interrupted by Grace bringing their meals. Several people greeted them as they paused at the table on their way by, and one asked Daniel for an update on the building of the hospital.

By then, Daniel's comment had slipped from Sully's mind as they discussed details on Daniel's half-finished house.

OOOOOOO

Michaela chuckled, her cheeks a bit pink as she read the elegantly penned letter, which had arrived in the post that morning.

_Dear Dottoressa Quinn,_

_I was very much pleased to receive your letter. Do you see? I knew I was right! The signor was merely waiting for the right time to ask you to be his bride. I am sure it is a memory you will cherish forever, much as I cherish the moment my Matteo proposed. _

_You are most welcome and kind to thank me again for my help when the two of you were here, but as I told you then, I was honored to be of help to you. I am happy that your clinic is doing well and that the people there in your town are beginning to know – as I do - that you are a fine dottoressa. _

_And now I must share with you some news, both good and bad. The first is that Colonel Davenport made the trip here and I took him to see the Lieutenant's grave and explained what happened. He was very sad and sorry to lose one of his best men. He mentioned that the wagon Corporal Green and Private Curtis were taking back to the fort had been attacked by a small band of Indians. Corporal Green was killed...but Private Curtis must have been taken, for they never found his body. The poor young one, I know you were concerned for him...but now I suppose he is in a better place and will not be forced to live with the guilt that he killed his superior officer. Knowing this can perhaps ease your mind a bit, sì? _

_I close this letter now and put it into the post for the long trip to Colorado. Please tell the signor that I send my regards. Thank you for letting me share in your happy news. _

_May your union with the handsome signor be blessed with many children – all boys!"_

_Your friend always,_

_Lina de Lando_

Michaela smiled as she lowered the paper to the desk, her gaze wandering unseeing out the window as she thought over her friend's words. It was considerate of Lina to let them know about the fate of the private and corporal, and the care she had taken in her wording of the missive – on the off chance it could have fallen into the wrong hands. Michaela's tender heart ached that the two kind troopers had met such an end...and she hoped Private Curtis had not suffered too severely.

As her mind cycled to the ending of the letter and their friend's blessing, she once again smiled...

"Good letter, huh?" a special, masculine voice asked from the region of the clinic door.

She turned her head, lips parting as she met that blue twinkling gaze, idly wondering if her heart would always speed up in his presence as it had just then. Once they married...would their relationship always be as magical as it was at that moment? Even more so? Sully was so handsome...in her opinion his looks were perfect. It was as if nature had reached inside her heart, gathered her dreams and desires for her personal Prince Charming, and caused them to manifest into the incredible man whose gaze at that moment held so much love and affection it stole her breath away. She felt a shiver of anticipation run through her as she realized the time for their wedding...and wedding _night_...drew ever closer – just over a week away.

His eyes never left hers as he pushed away from the doorjamb and sauntered across to her desk, circled around, and bent down to place a slow good-afternoon kiss on her lips. She sighed as she recognized the wonderful taste of Grace's flavorful meatloaf and apple pie he must have had for lunch. It only added to the deliciousness of his kiss.

"Mmm, you're making me hungry," she purred, eyes closed as he pulled back with a grin.

He chuckled softly. "For me? Or ain't ya had lunch yet?" he teased with a twinkle.

She opened her eyes and grinned at his expression. "A lady never tells," she responded smoothly, cocking an eyebrow at him and then chuckling when his grin turned into a cute pout. "But actually I haven't eaten, I've been so busy all morning."

"I thought you'd say that," he returned. Holding up a finger as if to say 'wait', he crossed the room and disappeared out the door, only to reappear a second later with a tray he had stashed on the table in the hall. She recognized the tray as one of Grace's as she watched him push the door closed with his foot and advance forward.

"Sully," she gasped, touched at his thoughtfulness. "You didn't have to do that..."

He grinned at the appreciative twinkle in her eyes and mentally patted himself on the back. She was, indeed, hungry.

Shrugging at her comment as he watched her lift the napkin and hum her pleasure at his choices, he murmured, "When you didn't meet me and Daniel for lunch, and Grace said you'd been covered up in emergencies, I figured you'd not take time to stop and eat."

Slipping a bite of succulent meatloaf into her mouth and swallowing with a sigh, she angled her face up toward his and puckered for another kiss, which he immediately supplied.

"Thank you, Sully," she whispered as he pulled back enough to see her expression.

"You're welcome," he whispered in return, then straightened up and perched a hip on the edge of her desk. Glancing down at the paper and envelope she had pushed to one side, he asked again, "Good letter? From your Ma?"

She swallowed another bite and pressed her lips together a moment, then took a fortifying breath and answered brightly, "No, but I did get a telegram from Marjorie." He raised his eyebrows asking for more and she added, "She and my sister Rebecca are coming to the wedding."

"That's good..." he began, but paused. Though she tried to mask it, he could see her emotions in her eyes.

"What about your Ma?"

"Marjorie...didn't mention Mother. But I've decided if that's the way Mother wants to be, if she refuses to even meet you, to give you a chance...if she cares more about 'Boston Etiquette' than what makes her daughter happy, then I don't want her to attend," she added firmly.

He watched her wolf down a few more bites for a moment, and then he smiled softly and reached for her hand, stilling it and bringing it to his lips. Pressing a soft kiss to her fingers, he whispered, "You don't mean that."

Her eyes snapped to his, lips ready with a quick denial, but something in those amazing blue eyes of his stopped the lie before it could draw breath. Ashamed of her small tirade, her lips formed her half smile and she shook her head. "No, you're right."

Glancing down at the missive on the desk again, he gestured with a nod, "So...who's that from?"

At this, her smile returned and she picked up the two folded sheets. "Actually it's from Lina."

"Oh yeah? How's she doin'?"

"Oh, she's fine. She wanted to let me know that the Colonel came to see the grave and was saddened by the 'Lieutenant's death." He rolled his eyes with a guilty grin. "She um...told me something though...Private Curtis and Corporal Green...the wagon was ambushed by Indians on their way back to the fort." She paused as concern immediately entered his eyes.

"...And?"

"And...the corporal was killed. They assume Private Curtis was as well, though they didn't find his body." She watched the transformation as her relaxed and happy fiancé allowed remorse to invade his psyche again and immediately wished she had kept that piece of information to herself, knowing how Sully had cared about the men in his command.

"I shoulda been with 'em...I shoulda been there," he whispered, a trace of moisture clouding those eyes as he thought about the men he had worked, sweated, and served with...and especially about their sadness at his 'passing.'

She immediately reached for his hand, urging him to look at her. "No, Sully! If you had been with them, you would most likely have been killed, too. I thank God you weren't with them!" she added, standing so she could step between his knees and wrap her arms around his neck.

Never had Sully's decision to desert seem more 'right' than at that moment. The thought that he could have been killed just days after seeing her safely to Bowie caused a chill to run up both their spines, and she closed her eyes as she felt his arms encircle and press her into the arc of his body, his face buried in the curve of her neck. Silently, she offered a quick prayer for the souls of the two soldiers.

Sully's heart was torn between intense gratitude that he had been spared and extreme guilt that his fellow troopers had been killed. He wondered if this was why he had felt such tremendous pressure to make his decision...but he also wondered if his presence with his troop mates might have made a difference in them escaping death...

They held each other for several minutes, gleaning comfort from one another as they could from no one else on earth. The connection they shared, as well as the secret, had forged a bond that neither had ever imagined they would experience – but would not now trade for all of the riches of the world.

Finally pulling back enough to see his face, and wishing to steer his mind onto happier matters, she touched her forehead to his and whispered, "Lina said she hopes our union will be blessed with many children...all boys."

He smiled a trifle sadly and took a breath, searching her eyes as she leaned back against his now clasped arms.

"That right?"

"Mm hm."

"We'll need a bigger house, then, huh," he teased softly, ever the practical Sully.

"Well...not for a while," she countered with a sweet grin as she met his eyes.

He pressed his lips together and nodded in agreement. "True."

"I...I've thought about children a few times..." she paused as she looked down shyly, taking his necklace into her hands and rolling the beads between her fingers. He watched her, adoring this amazing woman who could be the highly skilled physician Dr. Quinn one moment, and shy Michaela the next, as she added with a soft giggle, "I've thought about it a thousand times...I just wondered if you had."

He nodded, murmuring, "Sure I have."

She raised her eyes back to his again, searching their depths. "What would you like? Boys or girls?"

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her lips, then pulled back to give her that little boy grin she adored. "I think I'd like to start with a little girl...but only if she has _your_ eyes."

His answer delighted her and she grinned at him, quipping with a brief raise of her eyebrows, "Well, she might have, but...you must realize if she does, she might have my stubbornness, too."

He nodded and pressed his lips together, then crinkled up his nose as he quipped, "That's the way I like 'em."

She pressed her forehead to his again and they chuckled together in renewed happiness before he turned his head and glanced at her now forgotten tray of half eaten food.

"You gonna eat that piece 'a pie?" he teased, wiggling his eyebrows and licking his lips like a hungry wolf.

She chuckled and shook her head at his playfulness, inwardly glad that she had managed to steer the pendulum of his emotions back to the positive.

Together, they finished off her lunch. Sully kept her company for a while, their conversation light-hearted and full of hopes for their future, until a rather urgent knock reminded them both that Michaela was also now very much needed as the town doctor.

He leaned to give her a sweet kiss goodbye as he opened the door and stepped out of the way of an agitated Charlotte, one hand clasped tightly in the other.

"Charlotte! What happened?" Michaela asked in concern as she and Sully ushered their friend into the clinic room and up on to the exam table.

"Aww, cut myself with my peelin' knife. Got distracted by Brian's pup scamperin' around my feet, barkin' and yappin', and Brian hot on his trail," she explained, wincing a little as Michaela began unwinding the rag Charlotte had hastily wrapped around the bleeding digit.

Brian appeared in the doorway at that moment, the squirming pup held tightly in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Ma! I tried ta keep 'im outta the kitchen..." he squeaked apologetically.

Ever the loving mother, Charlotte clamped her teeth together against the pain, but managed a reassuring smile at her youngest. "I know, son...just take him on outside now, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am," he muttered with a pout. Ashamed that he had been the cause of his mother being injured, he turned and disappeared out the door with his fidgeting bundle.

Grasping a clean cloth, Michaela gently dabbed at the cut and nodded, flashing a look into her patient's eyes. "I don't think it's too serious. Should only require a few small stitches," she added with a comforting smile.

"Well, I sure am glad we got us a doc in this town now, that's all I gotta say," Charlotte murmured sincerely as she watched Michaela gather items with which to treat her wound.

Sully paused a minute to silently agree, proudly watching as his fiancée, transformed into the professional that she was, begin to soothe and treat her patient's needs.

With a contented sigh, he pulled the door shut behind him and headed back to work, counting down the days until he could get the 'doc' all to himself – for a short time, at least.


	57. Chapter 57

CHAPTER 57

"Stage coach is comin'! Stage coach is comin'!" Brian yelled as he ran down the main street of town, having just come from petting the horses in Robert E.'s paddock. Still young enough to enjoy the simple things in life, Brian was always excited when the stage arrived. That meant new packages for the store...or new medicine for Dr. Mike...or perhaps a new boarder for his mother's boarding house. Whatever it was, it was always the highlight of the week.

He skidded to a stop next to the display of apples on the porch of the mercantile, jumping up and down as he tried to see inside the dark interior of the conveyance. The driver pulled hard on the reins and the horses slowed to a stop amidst a jumble of dust, squeaks, and creaking wood. He immediately climbed down and began to assist the passengers with disembarking, while the co-driver pivoted on the seat and began to reach for valises and carpetbags.

Loren and Maude came to the door of the mercantile to get a look at the new arrivals; Loren, as always, on the lookout for new customers. Jake finished up with a customer and moseyed out to his porch, leaning against a post while other citizens milled around and walked to and fro. Two small boys chased by with a dog as two women, one gray haired with a bonnet and the other younger, paused to get a look at the newcomers before going inside to shop.

The stage door opened, and the first head to poke out of the shadowy interior had remarkably familiar strawberry blonde curls, a petite hat pinned in the center. The lady lifted her head and a white smile lit up the smooth countenance as she saw a familiar face.

"Hello again, Brian."

"Miss Marjorie!" the little boy squealed. "You came for Dr. Mike's weddin'!"

Marjorie smiled and held out a hand to the driver to be assisted in alighting. "I surely did, young man."

Then before Brian could say anything else, another head emerged from the gloom of the conveyance.

Marjorie began to look around for Michaela as the driver helped the second passenger down – a dark haired, elegantly dressed woman, perhaps ten years Marjorie's senior.

"Brian, is my sister in her clinic?" Marjorie asked the excited little boy.

"No ma'am, she..." the boy began, but was cut off by the storekeeper.

"Nope, her and Sully rode out this mornin'," Loren informed the two ladies who were trying to brush the dust off of their immaculate traveling outfits.

"Oh dear..." Marjorie muttered, foreseeing a blow up in the near future. Knowing it couldn't be helped, as she had chosen to surprise her sister and not send a telegram letting her know their exact time of arrival, she flashed a look at her traveling companion. Simultaneously they both turned toward the darkened interior of the coach as another head, this one with a much larger hat neatly pinned in place, made its appearance at the door.

Loren stared into the obviously aggravated face of an older, 'regal' looking woman. Maude's eyes opened wide, and she glanced at the younger women, who were sharing glances with raised eyebrows.

"Well?" the older woman groused at the driver. "Are you just going to stand there, young man, or are you going to lend me your hand and help me down?"

"Uh...sorry ma'am," the driver immediately apologized, extending his hand and thinking he had never been so glad to see the last of a paying customer as he was this one. She had made the entire trip one of the worst he'd ever undertaken.

She climbed down rather stiffly, and then smoothed black lace gloved hands against her full, rose pink and black skirt.

With a flourish, Marjorie mustered her brightest smile and swept a hand toward the two ladies.

"Everyone. I would like to introduce my sister, Rebecca Dickerson, and our mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Quinn. Mother, Rebecca...this is Loren Bray and his wife, Maude. They run the mercantile. Jake Slicker, the barber," she continued, gesturing to the man who had left his porch and wandered over to get a closer look at the arrivals. "And this is Brian Cooper, about whom I told you," she explained cheerfully.

Rebecca, weary from the extremely long trip, nevertheless smiled like the angel she was and moved forward to extend greetings.

Loren finally snapped out of his amazement and stuck his hand out in welcome, shaking first Rebecca's hand and then turning toward Elizabeth.

"Miz Quinn."

Elizabeth gave his hand the once over, as if she suspected it to be dirty, then carefully placed only her fingers within his grip, responding with a stiff, "How do you do."

Loren pulled his hand back and unconsciously wiped it on the front of his apron. "Well, I must say," he greeted with his customary grin, adding, "Dr. Mike's been chompin' at the bit for you two to get here...but she's only been talkin' about her sisters..." He cleared his throat and rushed on, "Here, let me help you with your bags and get ya settled in at the boardin' house," only to be stopped by the crisp voice of Elizabeth.

"Thank you, Mister...Bray is it? But I would prefer to be shown to the nearest hotel. It has been an exhausting trip and I am in dire need of rest and sustenance, not to mention the opportunity for freshening up."

"Well, ma'am, the nearest hotel's in Manitou," offered a familiar voice, causing Marjorie to turn with a pleased, barely stifled gasp.

"Daniel," she murmured as the handsome blond gentleman stepped around the back of the coach. Having been informed by Marjorie of the day of their arrival, he had taken pains to 'dress' for the occasion.

He tipped his hat politely, murmuring, "Ladies," but his eyes only rested on one of the three.

Elizabeth inclined her head to the first familiar face she had encountered. "Mr. Simon. And just where is this _Manitou_?"

He smiled his charming grin and quipped, "Ten miles that way," jerking his head toward the road out of town.

"I got a few empty rooms at my saloon," Hank offered snidely, having drifted down to get a better look at the newcomers. "I'll even give 'em to ya half price, seein' your kin 'a the doc."

Elizabeth merely flicked her eyes at the scruffy, long-haired man before turning toward the younger of her two daughters and placing her hands on her hips, fatigue making her uncaring of their audience. "You neglected to inform me that there is no _hotel_ in this sorry excuse for a town?"

The atmosphere around the coach immediately bristled as townsfolk within earshot took exception to the comment, and Marjorie pressed her lips together and closed her eyes for a moment, totally embarrassed.

"I told you, Mother, that the town is small and therefore doesn't have all of the...amenities...to which we are accustomed. But I also told you about Charlotte's boarding house..."

"You told me about the boarding house, yes, but I assumed it operated _in addition_ to the hotel...oh never mind," the older woman grimaced and turned her head as the two drivers laboriously lowered the second of two very heavy, very large trunks to the ground. Glancing at Loren, she ordered as if she were the Queen of England, "Please see that these trunks are delivered to this 'boarding house'." With that she directed her daughter to lead the way.

Rebecca turned to the assembled townspeople and smiled apologetically, murmured an unintelligible excuse, and then hurried after her mother and sister.

OOOOOOOO

"Mrs. Quinn, I'm so glad you're here," Charlotte began as her three guests filed in off of the dusty street, escorted by an amused Daniel. "Dr. Mike's told me so much about ya."

"Yes, and just where IS Michaela, why wasn't she here to meet our coach?" Elizabeth interrupted, feeling grumpier by the minute as she yanked at her gloves, striving hard not to allow herself to do something as un-ladylike as perspire in the uncomfortable heat.

Daniel, trying to be helpful, explained, "She and Sully rode out to the reservation this mornin'..."

Before he could finish, Elizabeth whirled to face him. "My daughter rode a _horse_ out to an _Indian_ reservation..._alone_ with her fiancé_? _That is not done. That is simply _not done!"_

Both Marjorie and Daniel knew they had better not let Elizabeth know that Michaela rode with Sully to the reservation on a regular basis to care for the Indians, and to spend time with her and Sully's friends...friends who had now become Sully's family.

"Mother, I assure you, everything is fine. Unless a rain storm comes up," Marjorie added, exchanging conspiratorial glances with Daniel. He coughed and cleared his throat, just barely keeping himself from laughing out loud.

"How could everything be _fine?" _Elizabeth griped, meeting Rebecca's gaze, which only reflected uncertain confusion.

"Um, Mrs. Quinn...Dr. M...Michaela has, well...adjusted to life here. She's really a fine horsewoman – and like I told you before, Sully won't let anything happen to her," Daniel explained in his calm, no-nonsense manner.

"But..."

"I think she said she was going to finish giving the folks out there vaccinations. They probably won't be back for awhile, so why don't you ladies go ahead and freshen up from your long trip?" He added gently.

"Well..." Elizabeth fumed, fidgeting with the skirt of her dress. Then letting out a defeated sigh, she turned to Charlotte, fixed a polite smile on her face, and asked, "Mrs. Cooper, would you please show us to our rooms?"

Charlotte swept a glance at the other three and then lifted an arm to indicate the stairway on their right, intoning as primly as she could manage, "If you will follow me."

OOOOOOO

Michaela glanced at her riding companion as their horses meandered slowly down the road from the reservation. Ever alert, Sully's face pointed straight ahead as he scanned the terrain for any sign of danger. Whenever he and Michaela were out alone together, he always reverted back to the mentality of being her protector...her 'knight in shining armor.'

This gave her some moments to gaze at his profile – a pastime of which she knew she would never tire. She loved everything about his looks...his soft wavy brown hair...his strong forehead and manly brow...of course the amazingly blue eyes framed by long black eyelashes...the proud nose and firm chin...the tanned skin...the wide shoulders...the firm muscled thighs and hips astride the horse, rocking forward and back with the motion of his mount...

She stopped herself there, her hand unconsciously rising to press against her chest as she felt her body begin to tingle. Just then, his voice broke into her thoughts.

"Somethin' wrong?"

Her eyes flashed back to his, which were now staring at her face, and she knew he knew where her thoughts had strayed – there was the tiniest sparkle of mischief twinkling within that compelling blue gaze. Her face instantly warmed.

Looking away and onto the road, she blustered, "No, of course, not...I um...I wonder when Marjorie and Rebecca will arrive," she added, scrambling for a subject to take his mind off catching her ogling his body.

She heard him chuckle softly, but dared not look his way. Still entirely innocent in the ways of intimate teasing, she could only shift uncomfortably in her saddle...and wonder for a moment how incidents like this would change a month from then...after they knew each other...completely.

Knowing she needed an out, he sat back in his saddle and tossed his hair a bit, smiling proudly at the thrill of catching his ladylove gazing hungrily at his body, and answered, "She didn't let ya know?"

"No...and with our wedding only days away..." she faltered, pushing back fears of anything happening to tarnish what should be the happiest day of her life.

He immediately reacted, reaching over and grasping her reins, pulling both horses to a stop as she let out a soft, surprised gasp. Leaning toward her, he placed his right hand on the back of her saddle, his left rising to touch her chin and turn her face towards his. She met his eyes and he smiled lovingly.

"Don't worry. Everything's gonna be fine. Our weddin' day's gonna be perfect..._and_ our weddin' night. You'll see," he murmured with that quiet confidence that always cut through all her fears and doubts and made her want to believe his words, made her trust him as she had never trusted another human being in her life...even more than her own dear father...

She drew in a soft breath and nodded, blessing him with a tiny smile. "You're right."

With a soft smile, he leaned near and she responded, both pairs of eyelids drifting shut, as he pressed smooth, warm lips to hers in a slow, loving kiss. In spite of the fact that they were out there in plain sight of anyone up or down the road, the world faded away for the pair as she melted into his embrace and returned his kiss with fervor.

Finally pulling back a bit, he touched his forehead to hers, seeing the adoration sparkling in her eyes which absolutely matched his own.

"I love you," he whispered reverently.

"And _I_ love _you_."

Grasping her hand, he brought it near and pressed his lips to it, murmuring, "We better get back ta town before Charlotte sends out a posse."

"Indeed."

Chuckling, they both again took up their reins and continued on.

After a while, he glanced her way.

"So...what've you and Snowbird been doin', shut up in their teepee in secret every time we go out there?"

One eyebrow went up and she met his glance. "_That_, Mr. Sully, is none of your business," she replied with practiced Bostonian haughtiness.

He laughed out loud. "That right?"

"That's right." She stated flatly, nose in the air, every inch the Beacon Hill aristocrat. It was, however, a struggle for her not to grin as he pursed his lips in a pretend pout.

"Okay...then I won't tell ya what me and Cloud Dancin' been plannin'."

Her mouth dropped open for a moment, but she recovered quickly. "Planning?"

Turning his head to the front again and nudging his horse a little faster, he answered smugly, "Yep."

"But..." she began, urging Flash to catch up, striving to see his face and figure out the surprise he seemed to be planning for her.

Then as he chanced a glance at her again, they both chuckled.

Lapsing into silence, Michaela thought about the surprise she and Snowbird had been working on. As she rode along, she let her mind reach back to a rather heated conversation from a month previous...

"But Sully! Other men wear wedding rings..." she argued as they had tried to have a serious discussion while seated on the edge on the fireplace hearth at his homestead.

"Well, I ain't _other men_."

"Well, no, of course not...I only meant..." she began, her hands trying to cling to his as she felt him begin to pull away.

"Michaela, I said _no_. I ain't doin' it."

"But...Sully I thought we were going to discuss it..."

"No. What you want is to change me, to make me bow to your wishes," he groused, rising to his feet. "But I..."

"Sully, that's not what I'm trying to do at all!" she immediately "I merely..." she hesitated, watching him turn from her and move several feet away, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, feet planted firmly in an unconscious stance indicating he wasn't about to budge.

"Won't you at least...tell me why?" she murmured softly, regretting that she had angered him. "I mean...a wedding band on a man's hand lets everyone know he's, well..._taken_."

"'Chaela, everybody knows I'm taken," he responded firmly.

"But...not people who don't know you..._women_ who don't know you," she added in a small voice, though striving not to allow herself to sound petulant. "I...I guess I imagine you being gone somewhere, away from me, like on a trip to Denver...and a beautiful young woman assumes you are free..."

He turned his head and looked at her again, sighing, his arms slowly relaxing to his sides as a little of his aggravation subsided in response to her admission. Drawing near again, he sat down where he'd been, reaching to take her hands in his as he thought about how to articulate his feelings. "'Chaela, you know I wouldn't even give another woman the time 'a day...you're my Heartsong. But I...I just _can't_. I wore a weddin' band with Abby...and I lost her."

She drew her lip between her teeth for a moment, watching his emotions play out in his eyes. "I know that, Sully, but..."

He put up a hand to stop her, shaking his head in sad finality. "There's one thing I know...I ain't ever goin' through that again."

"But Sully, you're not going to lose me," Michaela began, though deep down she knew no one could make a promise like that. People die every day...she could walk across the street tomorrow and be run over by a wagon. No one knew the future.

He shook his head determinedly, lips clamped. "No. I'd do _anything else_ for you, you know that..._but not this_. I ain't takin' no chances, Michaela. There's no way I'm wearin' a ring with you." Then at her crestfallen look, his heart warmed even more and he slipped one hand up to cup her cheek.

"Don't ya know...since the first day I saw ya, I don't even _see_ other women anymore?" he whispered. "My heart belongs ta you now. That ain't ever gonna change. What I feel for ya...it's only gonna keep growin' stronger till the day they plant me in the ground."

With that he had leaned in and given her a sweet, reverent kiss, sealing the vows he had just made. She had wondered anew how she had been so lucky as to find such a special man as this one who loved her so completely...

Sighing and glancing over at him again as their horses trotted side by side, their eyes met and her lips moved into a tiny smile as she thought about the wedding present Snowbird was helping her make for him. _Oh, I hope he likes it..._

Sully stole a glance at his fiancée; his eyes quickly roaming down her frame and back up again to her profile and her lovely, soft, long brown hair flowing along behind her in the breeze. That day she had chosen to wear the coral colored blouse he particularly loved on her, it made her peaches and cream complexion even lovelier. She truly was so very beautiful – inside and out. Sometimes he felt like pinching himself to make sure he wasn't asleep and just dreaming that she loved him as much as he loved her.

His thoughts drifted back much as hers had; to the night she had asked him if he would wear a wedding band. He knew she had not understood his reasons. How _could_ she understand the foreboding that had taken root in his heart? It had grown into a deep-seated fear that he _had_ to do things differently this time around in order to avoid suffering the same tragic results. He knew if he lost Michaela, his sorrow would be so massive, so all-consuming, he would be completely, utterly, and irreversibly crushed under its weight.

As she glanced over at him again and met his eyes, offering one of her tiny, special smiles, he wondered what she was thinking; she seemed so deep in thought. Giving her a loving smile in return, he allowed his eyes to once again sweep the area, thinking about the plans he had hinted at a few moments before.

He couldn't wait to see her reaction.

OOOOOOO

Having raced their horses the last mile into town and practically skidded to a stop at the hitching rail on the boarding house's porch, the two were giggling together, hair windblown, both starry-eyed, as they came through the center door of the building.

"I hope Charlotte's got supper on, I'm hungry," Sully was saying, Michaela nodding agreement, when they both came to a halt at the dining room door. The sight that met their eyes left them both speechless.

The dining room was a chaotic mess; clothing and all sorts of 'wedding paraphernalia' lay on the table and every surface. Two large trunks were open - it looked as if they had exploded their contents all over the room.

"Good heavens..." Michaela began, but stopped as her eyes encountered the somewhat faded, but still sharp blue eyes of the woman who was just turning around from laying out what looked like a bridesmaid's gown.

_Her mother_.

"Mother!" Michaela exclaimed in total shock. Elizabeth Quinn was certainly the last person she had expected to see.

Suddenly, two other women came toward her, arms wide. "Michaela!" Sully moved back out of the way to give them access to his fiancée.

"Rebecca, Marjorie," Michaela greeted with a genuine smile as her sisters engulfed her. She hugged each of them, her mind flooded with conflicting thoughts – mainly the expression on her mother's face and what all of the accouterments no doubt signified.

Just then, she noticed Charlotte, Colleen, and Brian were hovering off to one side, looking a bit shell-shocked. Michaela realized instantly that her mother had, as usual, commandeered her surroundings. She had taken over the dining room and left nowhere for Charlotte to serve dinner.

"My goodness...w...what's all this?" she stammered.

"This is your wedding trousseau," Rebecca explained, as Marjorie gave Michaela a sympathetic look. Daniel had quietly informed her of Michaela and Sully's preparations that were nearly completed.

"Oh dear..." Michaela murmured, thinking of the hours she, Charlotte, Dorothy, Grace, Maude, and several other ladies had spent working on not only her wedding dress, but also dresses for the attendants. "But...I thought..." she began, casting her gaze around the room until her eyes met Sully's. She couldn't quite read his expression, somewhere between bewildered and resigned...

Before she could gather her wits, Elizabeth surged forward. Having seen the look her youngest daughter exchanged with the long-haired man by the door, she surmised this was the infamous 'Sully', and she was totally geared up to give them both a piece of her mind.

"What is the meaning of this? Out all day on horseback, alone with a man? Michaela have you lost your senses? Look at you! Your hair is flying loose, and no bonnet on your head to protect your skin. Have you totally forgotten your upbringing, living out here in the 'Far West'? What possessed you to..."

"_Mother_," Michaela interrupted loudly. Drawing herself up to her full height, she looked her intimidating parent straight in the eye as she extended a hand back toward Sully. He reached out and grasped it, allowing her to tug him to her side.

"I'd like you to meet my fiancé, Mr. Byron Sully. Sully, this is my mother, Mrs. Elizabeth Quinn."

Sully smiled obligingly and held his right hand out toward the regally dressed matron. "Pleased ta meet ya, Mrs. Quinn...I've heard a lot about ya..."

Elizabeth examined her daughter's intended as if he were a bug under a microscope, noting his unconventional attire and quite long hair. Clearly hesitating, she seemed to be deciding whether or not to do the polite thing and acknowledge his gesture.

The air bristled with tension as everyone in the room unconsciously held their breath...


	58. Chapter 58

CHAPTER 58

The apprehension in the room was palpable as everyone waited for Elizabeth to react.

Finally, her head tilted back a bit as Bostonian haughtiness seemed to rise to the fore...but before she could utter a word, Horace shattered the tension by bursting through the outer door and into the foyer. He saw the assembly in the dining room and immediately stuck his head in the door.

"Dr. Mike..." he panted. "The café...a dead man...keeled over plumb on top 'a his meatloaf!"

Instantly in physician mode, Michaela murmured, "I'm sorry, Mother!" and whirled to follow the telegraph operator out the door, Sully at her heels.

Her mother threw her hands up in frustration, turning back into the room while muttering, "Just like her father. Spare me from 'physicians' and their 'emergencies'!"

OOOOOOO

Sully, Robert E., and Jake carried the large, unconscious man into the clinic, after which Michaela diagnosed him with a rare condition she called, "Catalepsy," which, she explained, causes the body to become rigid and breathing to slow so much that the person appears dead.

The commotion served one purpose, however – it gave Michaela time to regroup and brace herself that her mother had not only come for the wedding, but apparently had decided to take over the arrangements.

An hour later, the boarding house dining room table was filled with quite the variety of people. Three _ladies_...make that four, as Michaela had deemed to 'dress' for dinner with her mother and sisters present...dominated the gathering. Sully sat uncomfortably between Michaela and Dorothy, wishing he had thought about changing into the suit he had worn when Marjorie had first come to town...

After a silent few minutes, the only sounds being the soft clink of forks on Charlotte's best plates and the occasional clearing of a throat or shift in a seat, Colleen – ever the peacemaker – looked across the table at a stern-faced Elizabeth and stated shyly, "Missus Quinn...you sure brought lots of pretty stuff for Dr. Mike's weddin'...I ain't ever seen such fancies..."

Elizabeth swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes and smiled politely at the girl, despite the fact that she was inwardly cringing at her crude vernacular.

"Michaela is my youngest daughter and this will most likely be the last time I will have the joy of planning a wedding..." she replied, adding silently, _Though if there were any way I could talk some sense into her..._

Michaela took in a large breath and gently placed her fork on the table. Glancing first at Charlotte and then Dorothy, she began tactfully, "But mother...I wish you hadn't gone to all that trouble...Sully and I have plans of our own..."

Marjorie chortled and flashed her sister a glance.

"Why should _you_ get off scot-free? She planned every detail of each of _our_ weddings remember? As I recall, she even had a hand in picking the _groom_ for mine..." she added recklessly, the last bit slipping out before she realized she was voicing her thoughts – and deep-seated resentment.

"Marjorie!" Michaela fussed, reaching to touch her sister's arm in an effort to interrupt what appeared to be a sudden and eminent explosion.

"I beg your pardon. As I recall, Everett was _your_ choice, young lady," Elizabeth shot back, refusing to be cowed in the least. "And I still do not know what happened to your marriage, but at least he was someone known by the family, someone _suitable_, with a well paid job and a nice home. Someone who lived in _civilization_, not in some backwoods hovel!" she added as her frustration with a situation over which she had no control or influence chose that moment to boil over.

The very air in the room seemed to bristle. Michaela took in a sharp breath, shaken and angry as Sully merely sat quietly, fork poised over his plate, his lips pressed together. Dozens of emotions and thoughts raced through his mind, anywhere from wanting to get up and leave the table in an insulted huff, to picturing himself grabbing Michaela's hand and tugging her out the door and straight to Denver, not stopping until they were standing before a justice of the peace.

"Mother, I will not have you say such things about..." Michaela began, only to be interrupted by her normally ever-cheerful sister Rebecca – who surprisingly was now anything _but_.

"Someone _suitable_ Mother?" Rebecca asked incredulously. "That is all that matters to you, isn't it...appearances...the _rules_ of _polite society!"_

Everyone in the room turned to gaze at her, but she wasn't about to back down now as she slowly took her napkin from her lap and rose from her chair. Her face red with anger and embarrassment, she had reached her limit. Endless days in the close confines of railcars and stagecoaches, listening to her mother rant on and on about the 'deplorable situation in which her youngest daughter had found herself', not to mention the years of being the silent, dutiful daughter, always sacrificing her own happiness to please her mother and the will of 'society', had finally taken their toll.

"Mother, I have stood by and watched you manipulate everyone in this family into bending to your wishes. I've stood silent while you breezed in here and disrupted everything Michaela and Sully had planned, remained mute while you belittled their opinions, their friends, their _lives_. But I'll not stay silent any more," she declared firmly, though her hand quivered as she laid her napkin on the table.

"Rebecca," Elizabeth gasped, a hand fluttering to the broach at her throat as she stared openmouthed at her normally calm daughter and wondering what in the world had suddenly possessed her.

Quickly and gently, Charlotte arose from her seat, beckoning silently to her children to accompany her as they slipped into the kitchen and closed the door, Dorothy exiting with them, affording the family some privacy. Sully and Daniel exchanged uncomfortable glances; each wondering what their course of actions should be as Rebecca continued.

For Rebecca it was as if as the gate of her thoughts and feelings had been swung wide open. "In the short time that I have known Mr. Sully, meeting him and through letters from Michaela, I have found that he is a fine man, wise and caring, hardworking, talented – and he loves Michaela and she loves _him."_

"When it comes to choosing one's path..." Elizabeth tried to argue.

"You are _wrong_, Mother!" the daughter interrupted. "You, Boston, society – are terribly wrong! _Michaela_ has chosen the right path, the path of _true love_. And I _envy_ her," she paused, for a moment meeting Michaela's shocked eyes. Undeterred, Rebecca continued relentlessly, raising her chin a notch and meeting her mother's eyes head on, "I was in love, Mother. Do you remember? His name was Jason...Jason Smith...but he was from _Back Bay_, not Beacon Hill. I listened to you, Mother! I chose the 'good match', I obeyed my parent..."

"Rebecca Jane! You _love_ your husband..." her mother gasped softly.

"I _care_ for Robert, Mother! But he and I merely have a 'cordial' marriage. We respect one another...greet each other in the morning as we emerge from our separate rooms...share the parenting duties...perform what is expected of us at various functions..." she paused, swallowing dryly and looking her mother straight in the eye. "But...if I could but do it all over again, I would marry _Jason_. I would marry my _true love_. Even if it would have meant living in a modest house in Back Bay and being married to a hardworking man with dirt under his _fingernails_!"

Michaela's heart was breaking for her sister, who had obviously kept all of that emotion bottled up inside her for years. She glanced at Sully and he reached to take her hand. Daniel and Marjorie exchanged a heartfelt, and very uncomfortable glance across the table.

"Even if..." Rebecca started to add another comparison, but by then tears were streaming down her face and, overcome, she squeaked, "Excuse me," as she clamped a hand over her mouth and rushed from the room. No one moved as they listened to her footfalls hurrying up the steps, and a door somewhere upstairs slamming shut.

Elizabeth sat stunned, too numb from the unexpected revelations to even feel embarrassed that their family's laundry had been aired in front of Daniel and Sully.

Then Sully stood quietly, gently assisted Michaela to her feet, and they silently slipped out of the room. Taking their cue from them, Daniel and Marjorie did the same. Marjorie paused for a moment next to her mother, but could think of nothing to say, so she allowed Daniel to escort her out.

Finally, Elizabeth was left alone, staring into the dining room's fireplace, realizing she felt very tired...and old.

OOOOOOO

"Oh dear..." Michaela mumbled as she, Sully, Marjorie, and Daniel huddled together on the porch.

"I don't think I've ever seen Rebecca so angry," Marjorie mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest as she met the other's gazes one by one.

"Seems like you ain't the only Quinn with a temper, huh?" Daniel teased, chuckling as she playfully jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow, but softened the blow by shooting him a grin.

Sully said nothing, merely watched the expressions on Michaela's face, as he could sense how much the 'scene' had upset her. He hovered close, gently touching her arm and then caressing her back as she glanced up at him.

"What a mess," she murmured, shaking her head sadly. "I've so looked forward to having my family here to share the happiest day of my life and now..."

"It'll be okay..." he began, as she leaned against his chest, his arms automatically moving to embrace her.

"If I know Rebecca, she'll not even want to show her face to the rest of us for the duration of her stay...Mother will be so angry she probably won't even speak to me, much less attend our wedding...and even if she does, she'll insist that we use all of the paraphernalia she brought with her..."

"Maybe not...maybe things'll look better for everybody in the mornin'..." Sully tried to encourage, but totally disheartened, Michaela merely shrugged and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow," before lightly kissing his lips, stepping from him with her head down in defeat, and making her way to the door.

They watched her go, and then Marjorie turned back to Daniel. "I...I better go with her," she murmured, and he nodded, giving her hand a squeeze before she, too, slipped inside the door, closing it softly behind her.

The sisters silently glanced into the shadowy dining room, seeing their mother sitting still staring into the fire, and then exchanging glances and soft sighs, they slowly ascended the stairs together.

At the top of the steps, they paused, staring at the closed door to the room Rebecca and Marjorie were sharing.

Marjorie cringed, leaning toward Michaela and whispering, "I'm not sure what to say to her...I've never seen Rebecca so upset before – she's always so..._cheerful_."

"I know..." Michaela whispered back, reaching to grasp her sister's hand. Then she reached to knock softly on the door. No reply. Turning the handle, she opened the door and both saw their older sister standing at the French doors, arms crossed over her chest, staring out through the lace curtains at the setting sun. She turned, and they could see her eyes were red, tears on her cheeks.

"Oh Michaela...Marjorie...I'm so ashamed of my behavior..." she squeaked softly.

As one, the sisters came together in a group hug as the door swung slowly shut behind them.

OOOOOOO

Elizabeth sat staring into the fire, her heart constricted at the thought that she had been instrumental in causing her own daughters to be unhappy...especially her eldest, her loyal, loving, sweet Rebecca.

Her daughter's words still rumbled in her mind. "_I was in love...remember? But he was from Back Bay...Back Bay...Back Bay..." _

Unbidden, the memories, long buried, came back with a vengeance...she saw _herself_ at age eighteen, hurrying to meet a young man where he worked at a small diner near his home in Back Bay...sharing chaste kisses under a flowering tree on the Commons and long walks along the Charles, including the evening he told her he loved her...his proposal...the terrible row she'd had with her parents over him...and his warm brown eyes spilling tears onto his cheeks when she told him she couldn't marry him.

Then, as if turning the pages of a scrap book, the memories flashed in her mind...her wedding day with Josef Quinn...her silent weeping in the dark on their wedding night after he had taken her innocence and immediately went to sleep, while she bitterly longed for another. Then over the years, the 'comfortable' relationship she and her husband had settled into...a 'friendship' kind of love, one where she tried to fill the void in her heart with _things_...expensive clothes, the beautiful mansion, servants, vacations, her position in society, all of the accoutrements of being the wife of a wealthy physician, and living her life vicariously through her daughters...

She was so deep in thought, she never noticed the door from the kitchen open, nor the quiet footsteps coming into the room. She stirred, however, when she heard the soft clink of plates being gathered from the table.

Retrieving a lace hanky from the end of a ruffled sleeve, she delicately dabbed her eyes and squared her shoulders before turning to face her hostess. Charlotte paused and met the older woman's eyes.

"Please forgive my family's deplorable behavior at your dinner table, Mrs. Cooper. I apologize..." Elizabeth offered, stiffly formal, unsure of what the younger woman's response would be.

Charlotte smiled softly, wanting to put Dr. Mike's mother at ease. "Aw, that's alright, Miz Quinn, all families have squabbles sometimes...it's part _of_ it."

Relaxing a tiny bit, Elizabeth returned with a small appreciative nod, "Thank you." Then looking around and realizing the heated words had resulted in no one finishing their meal, she was once again contrite. "Oh my...all of your delicious food...and your children didn't finished their dinner..."

"Don't worry 'bout that none, we ate in the kitchen," Charlotte assured her, smiling as the other woman rose and came toward the table.

"At least allow me to help you clean up..." Elizabeth offered, though not truly expecting Charlotte to take her up on the offer. Charlotte surprised her, however, with a friendly grin.

"Thanks, I could use the help. Been a long day," she added guilelessly. For the next few minutes, both ladies worked in silence, carrying plates and bowls full of food into the warm kitchen.

Finally, Elizabeth glanced from under her lashes at her companion, commenting almost offhandedly, "It seems I haven't been a good parent to my daughters, though Heaven knows, I've tried."

Charlotte had been wondering if she should mind her own business, or try to say something. Being the kind of woman who spoke her mind, she opted for the second. Pausing in the act of tying an apron around her waist, she looked her elegant assistant straight in the eye, though she kept her voice gentle, "Ma'am...you mind a little plain talk?"

Elizabeth gave her a tired smile. "You may speak your mind. It seems to be the night for it," she added a trifle sardonically.

Charlotte took a deep breath and thinking _well, here goes, _she launched right in. "Miz Quinn...from what I see, I can tell ya love your daughters and ya want the best for 'em. But...you can only do so much." Folding her hands demurely, Elizabeth stood quietly, allowing her to continue. "When our children are little, we teach 'em to walk and talk, mind their manners, do their learnin', and try ta help 'em grow up ta be strong men or women. But then once they're growed...I think we're supposed to step back and let 'em be who they were meant to be, and trust that we've done all we could do. I don't think we're supposed to keep tryin' to control their lives as adults..." she added gently, hoping she hadn't overstepped.

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. Charlotte's words stung, but deep down she knew she was right. Her own mother had controlled her life and the lives of her brothers and sisters, and she had fallen into the same habit.

Turning to her kind hostess, she murmured with a self-effacing smile, "Do you think an old 'leopard' like me can change her spots?"

Charlotte chuckled, reaching for Elizabeth's hand. "I think anything's possible, if ya want it bad enough."

With a look of mutual understanding, Charlotte added, "Now, I think you can start by..."

OOOOOO

Michaela, having overslept, awoke the next morning after a night of tossing and turning, dreaming a hodgepodge of silly dreams that didn't make sense - one of which was a wild, unbelievable set of scenes where she and Sully seemed to be performing in a circus – on a trapeze of all things! Sitting up and yawning, she looked around at her room and wondered if anyone would miss her if she just hid in there all day, with the covers over her head like she used to do as a child. The thought was tempting, but she knew she'd never get away with it. No, the only thing for it was to get up and face the music...

Thirty minutes later she was fastening a barrette in her hair as she made her way down the stairs when she realized she heard conversation in the dining room. It sounded like 'happy' conversation – and her mother's voice!

Stepping to the door, her mouth dropped open in total shock. There, amidst a mess of clothing, material, decorations, and people, sat her mother, happily sewing lace onto a beautiful white wedding dress. Michaela looked around at the assembly – Colleen, Charlotte, Dorothy, Grace, Marjorie, and Rebecca, and even the sweet little old lady named Carmen – working feverishly on wedding apparel. She could see the dress her friends were meticulously making for her had been taken apart, with parts of it being incorporated into what must have been an expensive 'professionally made' gown. Several of the ladies were working on altering bridesmaid and maid of honor dresses.

"Michaela! It's about time you decided to join the waking world," Rebecca called when she happened to look up and spy her sister hovering at the door to the room.

Speechless, Michaela could only stare at her sister wide-eyed as she came gliding across the room, looking as if the previous evening's debacle had never happened. Taking Michaela in her arms, Rebecca whispered, "You won't believe the difference in Mother this morning. It's like she's had an epiphany or something. I'm afraid to ask why, so just enjoy it," she added with a soft chuckle.

Pulling back, the sisters shared a loving glance and then Rebecca turned around and led her over to show her the ladies' progress.

"Mornin' Dr. Mike," Colleen greeted as she drew near. "We're doin' everything just how you said you wanted...and this dress...well, Ma kind of thought we can make it into the picture of the one you liked..."

Michaela, by now tearing up, pressed trembling lips together as she gazed around at the assembly. Finally her eyes came to her mother's and Elizabeth smiled lovingly. Then placing her sewing aside, she stood up and moved to stand in front of her daughter, taking her hands.

"Michaela...I've been wrong, for so many years, about so many things. Can you forgive an old woman's foibles?" she murmured softly.

Michaela swallowed thickly, trying to grasp the reality of her mother apparently having a total change of heart.

Finally, she managed to whisper, "Yes, Mother..."

Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction and leaned in to take her daughter in her arms for a very heartfelt and loving hug.

OOOOOOO

Walking past the boarding house, Sully turned his head and smiled when he heard laughter coming from the open dining room window. Recognizing Elizabeth's voice as one of them, he mused, _Sounds like things are good this mornin'. _Resisting the urge to go to the door just to 'see' and maybe get a kiss from Michaela, he continued on to his destination – the mercantile.

As he entered, Maude turned to see who their customer was and smiled broadly when she saw her former son-in-law.

"Sully. How are ya?" she greeted.

"I'm good. How's things with you?" he returned, quickly making his way over to help her down from the ladder she had climbed to stock a high shelf.

"Aww, I'm right as rain," she answered. "Ever since Dr. Mike put me on that digi...diga...that medicine, I been feelin' a heck of a lot better," she added with a grin. Sully smiled with pleasure over his fiancée's medical prowess, and the fact that his former mother-in-law's health had much improved.

"That's good, Maude. I'm real glad for ya."

"And _I'm_ real glad for _you_, Sully...we both are," Maude added as Loren came out of the storage room and joined the conversation.

"The big day's tomorra, huh?" Loren commented, adding with a chortle and an elbow to Sully's ribs, "Ya gettin' nervous, boy?"

Sully grinned and looked down, thinking if they only knew how _anxious and excited_ he was for the next day to arrive. Then looking back up at the two of them and glancing around to make sure the store was empty, he murmured, "Um...I appreciate that this may be kinda hard...for the two of ya..."

The older couple sobered a little as memories of their beautiful, black-haired daughter came to their minds. They turned their heads to meet each other's eyes.

"Our Abigail...had a heart as big as the world, she did..." Loren murmured, clamping his lips together for a moment.

"Yes, she did," Sully whisperingly agreed.

Maude nodded, then turned again to their former son-in-law, visions of him on his knees in tears after Abby's death coming to mind. She could see in his eyes that the hurt had healed, and she was glad of it.

Smiling gently, Maude laid her hand on Sully's arm. "She woulda wanted you to be happy, son. And...I think she woulda liked Dr. Mike."

Sully smiled softly in relief. "I do, too."

The three stood silently together for a moment, each one sending warm, loving thoughts to the young woman who had been such a part of each of their lives, but left this world much too soon.

Then, clearing his throat, with a wistful smile, Sully bent his head and kissed Maude's cheek, and shook Loren's hand. "Ya comin' to the weddin'?" he asked with a grin, and Loren pumped his hand firmly, answering with his trademark smirk, "'Course we are. Seems like it's shapin' up ta be the biggest thing to happen in Colorado Springs in a long time. Wouldn't miss it."

The three chuckled together, and then Sully turned and walked out the door as his former in-laws stood watching him, their arms around one another. Both knew without him saying a word that he was heading to give a final farewell.

OOOOOO

Sully slowed to a stop at the two graves, and stood gazing down at the carved headstones and rock-covered plots, imagining Maude visiting regularly and keeping them each clean and tidy. He hadn't been back since he had first returned to town and now he swallowed, and then reverently lowered to his knees between them.

"Abby...Hanna...it's been nearly three years since you..." he began, pausing as the awful memories of that night came rushing back. "I...I wanted to die _with_ ya that night. You _know_ that. But now..." he took in a deep breath and pressed his lips together, moving his head in a quick nod. "Now I gotta move on. I wanted ta thank ya both...for comin' to me when I was on my vision quest and releasin' me from my promise. And I want ya to know, you'll both always have a place in my heart."

With that, he took his knife from its sheaf at his hip and reached up to cut two small locks of his hair, carefully placing a bit safely under a rock at the base of each headstone.

Then with a sigh of completion, he rose to his feet, his hands touching each stone gently as he turned toward town...toward his future...toward Michaela.

_Next chapter...the wedding!_


	59. Chapter 59

CHAPTER 59

Michaela slowly opened her eyes, the morning sun just casting its rays over the brightly colored quilt on her bed. Within seconds, her heart sped up as a thrill raced down her spine..._Today is my wedding day...today I'll become Mrs. Byron Sully...Michaela Quinn Sully..._ she mused, raising her left hand to her lips and pressing a soft kiss to the engagement ring he had placed on her finger. _His_ ring meant so much more to her than the considerably more expensive one David had purchased for her, though that was no surprise.

_I wonder what Sully is doing right now... _she thought, picturing him waking, stretching, smiling, and rising and heading to the washstand to shave – maybe even humming. _I love you, Sully...I can't wait to see you today...to become your bride... your wife...to wake up with you in the morning... _she added silently, turning her head and touching the empty pillow beside her. Catching her lip between her teeth, a look of wonder crossed her face as she tried to imagine his head there...his eyes closed in sleep...perhaps a contented smile curving his lips...

Energized with eager expectation, she threw the covers back, swung her feet onto the floor, and gazed around the comfy room that had been her home for nearly a year. She had been happy and content here...but the thought of the beautiful homestead Sully had refurbished for them...for _her_...made a smile come to her lips. Her wonderful fiancé, he worked so hard – on their home, on Daniel's home, and everything else that occupied his time. She felt truly blessed that a man such as him...so sweet and loving...and incredibly handsome...loved her with the same intensity with which she adored him. It was heaven on earth.

On the heels of that thought came other sources of joy...her mother's change of heart and attitude...the love and admiration of the townspeople in this place she now called home...the new hospital of which, when completed, she would be Director and Chief Surgeon...Charlotte, the woman who had become her best friend, closer to her than any of her sisters...the fun and surprise of her bridal shower the day before and the love she had felt from each and every gift – from the gorgeous silk peignoir her mother had ordered from Paris, France, to the cute and clever cookie cutter from Grace, to the exquisite 'double wedding ring' quilt from the quilting circle... She sighed softly as waves of joyfulness infused her soul.

Rising, she completed her morning ablutions just in time for a knock on the door. It was Charlotte and Marjorie, with smiles as bright as all outdoors, coaxing her to come downstairs, to try and eat some breakfast before wedding day preparations began. Giggling like schoolgirls, the women set off down the hall together, arm in arm.

OOOOOOO

Sully rolled over and squinted against the sun. Sleepily, he raised a hand and rubbed his palm over his face and eyes, shaking his head to try and wake up. It had been a long night for him, as he had worked until the wee hours of the morning to make sure all was in readiness. He wanted everything to be perfect for her...for his _Michaela_. His heart seemed to jump and a quiver ran up his spine as he thought about her...as she had looked when he had kissed her goodbye on the boarding house porch the night before, the moonlight sparkling in her eyes, the catch in her voice when they had said, "I love you...I can't wait until tomorrow morning..."

_Today I'll finally get to take her as my bride..._he mused, pausing as a huge grin came over his face, thinking it seemed as if he had waited forever. _I hope she likes all of her surprises. I wonder if she's up yet...what she's doin'...tomorrow we'll watch the sun come up together..._

He yawned and stretched his muscular arms over his head. Then rolling to his feet, he stood up, twisting and grunting as he worked the kinks out of his back from all the hard work he had done the day before. He hummed softly as he made his way outside to take care of morning business. _I love you, Michaela Quinn, my lady...my heartsong...and I can't WAIT ta see ya in your weddin' dress...my bride, walkin' down the aisle to me._

Sometime later he stood before the mirror at the washbasin, carefully shaving every hint of whiskers from his cheeks, jaw, and neck, knowing she would run her fingernails over them and give him a sassy look if he missed any. He grinned for a moment as he remembered a recent conversation...

"Is your razor getting dull, Mr. Sully?" she had murmured, gently running her nails over his jaw as he leaned in to engage in one of his favorite pastimes – that of kissing his lovely fiancée.

He nuzzled her cheek on purpose, chuckling at her intake of breath. "Nope...didn't take time ta shave this mornin'."

"_So I see_..."

"What, don't you like me with a beard?" he asked, feigning insult.

She pulled back a bit to see into his eyes, which were twinkling naughtily and she knew, if he so chose, he could attack her quite briskly with his stubble, and she would be helpless against the playful assault. Though he rarely let it surface, she had come to learn that underneath his serious exterior was hidden a quite mischievous boy. Hoping to keep the 'beast' calm, she stroked his cheek lovingly.

"Yes, I _do_. But...this in-between stage is not exactly my favorite."

He chuckled and leaned in to press soft, smooth lips to hers. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I promise on our weddin' night, I'll be smooth for ya. There's lots 'a feelin's I'm wantin' to share with ya...but whisker scratchin' ain't one of 'em," he added roguishly, chuckling at her answering blush.

Now as he grinned at his image in the mirror, he murmured, "I aim ta please, Dr. Mike. I aim ta please." _In more ways than one..._

OOOOOOO

Three hours later, the church was packed, standing room only, as Sully, the Reverend, and Daniel took their places at the front. Sully wondered for a moment if they should have taken the Reverend's suggestion and had the wedding in the meadow, but it was too late now. Taking in a deep breath, he flashed an anxious smile at Reverend Johnson, and then exchanged grins with Daniel.

"Nervous?" Daniel murmured in his ear.

"Nervous, nah. Anxious, heck yeah," Sully responded with a soft chuckle, though the dampness of his hands as he unconsciously wiped them on his tuxedo pants belied his words.

"Ya got the ring, right?" he asked his best friend, for the third time.

Daniel chuckled and nodded patiently, patting the tiny watch pocket in his vest.

"Relax, Sully. Try ta enjoy it – you're marrying the second prettiest woman in the world."

Sully immediately reacted, turning his head a bit to stare up into his taller friend's eyes. "_Second_ prettiest? Who's..." he paused as Daniel gave him a look and a raised eyebrow.

"Ahh, so _that's_ the score, huh? So...when you gonna pop the question?" Sully murmured with a grin.

Daniel merely grinned back, but deemed to mumble, "Soon."

Before any more could be said, the organist began to play a prelude to the wedding processional. The congregation began to whisper, as the outer door of the church opened and the bridesmaids began to enter – Grace, Marjorie, and Dorothy, and take the arm of their paired usher – Robert E., Matthew, and Jake.

As Dorothy and Jake made their way down the aisle, Charlotte and Rebecca, beaming and lovely as Michaela's co-matrons-of-honor, emerged from behind the entrance partition and started down toward the front. The attendants took their places, and Marjorie cast a large, happy grin Daniel's way as the wedding march began.

Sully swallowed dryly, his eyes straining for his first glimpse of his Heartsong in her wedding gown, as he leaned his head to see past Charlotte, who was just reaching the front pews. He had been worried because he knew Michaela was going to ask her mother to give her away, and none of them were sure how Elizabeth would respond. _What if she'd said no? What if Michaela has to walk herself down the aisle alone..._ his heart nearly clenched at the thought. Then in the next instant, a smiling and elegantly dressed Elizabeth stepped out from behind the dividing wall, leading her youngest daughter.

The crowd as one let out a sigh as a magnificently radiant Michaela was revealed; in the most beautiful, off-the-shoulder white wedding dress any of them had ever seen. Breathless, Sully felt his heart swell with pride and love as she gave a smiling glance at her mother, and then turned her head to search out her beloved, through the lovely lace of her veil.

Michaela barely realized Colleen was fussing with the train of her dress. She only had eyes for her groom, who was standing so handsomely at the front of the church, in the black tuxedo Elizabeth had brought for him – his concession after a brief argument the night before about whether or not Michaela would change her name, and since he had already stubbornly refused to even consider wearing a wedding band, he had acquiesced. She had agreed to keep her own name and add his onto it, in exchange for him going along with a much fancier wedding than he had ever wanted.

Her heart sped up and her legs felt jittery as she began to float down the aisle to him, gripping her mother's arm.

"Michaela...I was wrong about Sully," her mother whispered. "He's a fine, honest, hardworking man, and he loves you very much. I just want you to know...I give you both my blessing."

"Oh Mother, thank you...I love you," Michaela whispered back, glancing again at Elizabeth with a watery smile as they reached the altar.

Elizabeth smiled lovingly at her daughter and took her hand, ceremoniously placing it with a meaningful glance into Sully's larger one. He answered with a nod. Michaela took her place at Sully's side, glancing shyly at him through the wispy cover of her veil. He smiled at her, feeling his heart do a flip that this incredibly beautiful angel, such a special, wonderful woman, was actually about to become his wife.

She turned to smile at Charlotte, who gave her a wink as Michaela handed her the beautiful bouquet of lovely blue flowers, given to her by Dorothy during her time of dressing and the presentation of 'Old, New, Borrowed and Blue'. Raising a hand to finger the pearls at her throat, she flashed a smile at her glowing sister, who grinned and winked in return.

Speechless with joy, Sully turned his head toward the Reverend as the clergyman began the ceremony.

"Dearly beloved: We have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony. The union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended by God for their mutual joy; for the help and comfort given one another in prosperity and adversity." He paused for a moment to smile at the two standing before him before continuing, "Into this holy union Michaela Quinn and Byron Sully now come to be joined. If any among you can show just cause why they may not lawfully be married, speak now; or forever hold your peace."

He waited a few moments and scanned the crowd before nodding and continuing with the ceremony as the two participants waited in breathless anticipation.

"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?"

Elizabeth smiled and answered regally, "I do," prompting Michaela to turn and give her mother one last heartfelt, grateful look before Elizabeth turned and took her seat on the front row.

The Reverend nodded, instructing, "Take right hands, please." The bride and groom turned toward each other, and Sully gently grasped his bride's lovely hand as he once again met her eyes, the sparkle of which shone right through the material of her veil. Each felt as if they were living a dream, the moment feeling at once exhilarating and surreal. As the Reverend began the vows, their gazes held as the words they promised pierced to the very marrow of their beings, and each knew without a doubt they meant them, and they would never be broken.

"Do you, Sully, take Michaela to be your wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?"

His eyes shining just as brightly as hers, he gave a tiny nod and unconsciously gripped her hands a little tighter. "I do."

Reverend Johnson continued, "Do you, Michaela, take Sully to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, as long as you both shall live?"

A jolt of breathless excitement and joy rushed through her body as Sully's eyes held hers, and she managed to whisper, "I do."

"The ring, please?"

Sully released her hand and turned to his best friend, who grinned teasingly and patted his pockets, but then produced the wide gold band, placing it securely in Sully's hand with a wink. Sully gave him a look, turned back to his bride, and carefully slipped it onto her finger, lovingly taking both her hands again in his.

Around the room, eyes filled and breaths were held as each observer felt the emotion of the two who were binding themselves to one another. Grace, always a crier, could barely see through the moisture in her eyes. Charlotte and Rebecca simultaneously reached for one another's hands in support as each heard the other take a shuddering breath. And Marjorie...though she was ecstatically happy for her sister, her eyes kept straying back to the tall, handsome blond haired man behind the groom and once again their gazes met...and held.

"Bless, O Lord, this ring to be a sign of the vows by which this man and this woman have bound themselves to each other."

The bride and groom continued to be lost in one another's eyes as the Reverend finished, "Now that Michaela and Sully have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife. Those whom God has joined together, let no man put asunder. Amen."

"Amen!" agreed most of the people out loud. Elizabeth nodded once, tears of joy filling her eyes that her youngest daughter had finally found the man with whom she would spend the rest of her life, as she whispered in agreement, "Amen."

With a final smile at the star-struck bride and groom, the Reverend murmured to Sully, "You may now kiss the bride."

Still euphoric, Sully reached carefully for the bottom edges of Michaela's veil and lifted it gently up and back, revealing to his rapturous gaze an unobstructed view of her lovely face for the first time that day.

She smiled happily up at him, trembling with excitement as he gently leaned in, one hand cupping her face as their lips met for their first official kiss as husband and wife.

The crowd erupted in applause, spurring the rapturous couple to continue, and Sully slipped his arms around her waist and shoulder as he pressed her against his body, deepening the kiss.

Both had the same thought, wondering if this were real, or had they died and gone to Heaven...

OOOOOO

The reception, held in the meadow, had been in full swing for hours.

Grace had outdone herself on the food, having fixed enough to feed an army regiment. The wedded couple had indulged in their first dance – of which Sully surprised his bride when the band struck up the Sweetheart's Reel.

"How did you learn this...you told me you didn't know this one..." Michaela had gushed as her groom had merely winked and taken her by the hand to lead her to the head position in the line. Giggling with happy surprise, she had curtsied and performed the steps with him, including ducking through the 'tunnel' of raised hands and indulging in a kiss at the end. The bride was left amazed and wondering just what other surprises her wonderful groom had hidden up his elegant sleeve. Her eyes strayed time after time to the strikingly attractive picture he made in the formal attire, and she wondered again at the amazing man who was her new husband – she had seen him in army blues, Indian buckskins, worker dungarees, cowboy blue jeans, and now even formalwear. The thought made her smile that he was breathtaking no matter what he wore...and she wondered for the hundredth time about the last attire, that of nothing at all, she would be privileged to witness later that night. Somehow she knew she would find him even more appealing in _that_ state.

Throughout the meal, and toasts from Daniel, Charlotte, Rebecca, Marjorie, and even Loren, Sully couldn't take his eyes – or his hands – off his lovely bride. He felt freed, and empowered, that he now had the 'right' to touch her in public, so he made good use of the privilege. Michaela certainly didn't mind each time her gorgeous new husband leaned to kiss her neck, caress her shoulder, feed her a morsel off his plate, or whisper something naughty or risqué in her ear. He especially enjoyed the latter, as each time produced a lovely flush to his bride's cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes. He was having a difficult time maintaining his patience as he waited for the festivities to come to an end.

At one point, Michaela and Daniel shared a dance while Sully was persuaded by his bride to waltz her sister Marjorie around the dance floor.

Michaela grinned up at Daniel, noticing his gaze repeatedly straying to her effervescent sister. Chuckling softly, she couldn't resist teasing him, pointing out, "I see you seem to have a fondness for Quinn girls."

He had the grace to blush, his grin merry as he met her eyes, determinedly turning with her in his arms so he couldn't see Marjorie.

"I guess I had that comin'," he mumbled.

"Indeed," she returned, enjoying his discomfort.

He held her gaze so that she could see the veracity of his words, and then murmured seriously, "I just want you to know...I ain't ever felt about anybody the way I feel about Marjorie. I mean...I know that sounds bad, considerin' I proposed ta you and all, but...I think it's for real this time, Michaela. Majorie's the 'one'...and I think she feels that way towards me, too."

Seeing the seriousness of his admission, Michaela smiled sweetly up at him, truly happy for not only him, but her sister as well.

"I'm so happy to hear that, Daniel. And...remember I told you that the 'right' one was out there for you and you would soon meet her? I just never dreamed my prediction would come true the very same day!" she added with a chuckle.

He laughed delightedly. "Neither did I. Have I thanked you yet for throwing me over for Sully?" he teased, and they both laughed in easy friendship.

Soon, their dance was finished and Daniel, ever the gentleman, delivered the gorgeous bride safely into her new husband's hands. With a gallant bow, he then held out his hand to his love to ask her for another dance, and she sweetly obliged.

Then came the cutting of the cake as they shared a kiss and gently fed one another a small bite of the delicious confection, to the delighted awes and applause of their guests.

Knowing time was of the essence for the surprise he had planned, Sully urged his bride to come away with him. She acquiesced and after making the rounds to thank their guests, he coaxed her toward their wagon. They found it garishly decorated with ribbons, streamers, cans, and shoes tied on long strings, and 'Just Married' painted on the tailgate. Hugs and kisses abounded as the couple prepared to take their leave.

"Where ya gonna spend your honeymoon?" Hank inquired with a naughty laugh, prompting Sully to flash him a grin as he helped a blushing Michaela up into the wagon.

"Noneya business."

The crowd erupted in laughter.

"That right?" Hank returned, trying to appear innocuous, though he had quietly gone around recruiting people to participate in a very raucous shivaree that night. The problem was he had as yet been unable to find out the location.

"That's _right_," Sully stated firmly. He knew all about Hank's plans as one of his friends had caringly deemed to let him know. Having participated in a shivaree one time, Sully had vowed never to do it again, as the harried couple's wedding night had been for the most part ruined, and he had felt much sympathy for the frustrated groom. And he was not about to become yet another victim and be added to the reminiscent tales.

Hank snorted, thinking he wasn't about to let either of them get off Scot-free if he could help it, and secretly feeling much envy that the self-proclaimed 'mountain man' had managed to capture the hand of the beautiful lady doctor. "We'll see about that," he mumbled, wiggling his eyebrows at Jake, as both men erupted in raucous chuckles.

Michaela stood and turned around, giving her bouquet a healthy toss, turning her head in time to witness her sister Marjorie catching it with ease. She lifted it in salute to her sister before casting her eyes toward Daniel, standing near the bride and groom's wagon.

Daniel and Sully exchanged grins and Sully leaned to clasp hands with his best friend in a firm handshake and an unspoken message communicated through short nods.

Then Sully took up the reins and glanced to his bride, asking softly, "You ready?"

She nodded eagerly as her hands circled his arm, her body pressed close to his on the wagon seat.

With a snap of the reins and a 'G'yup!' amidst a shower of rice and flower petals, they were off.

OOOOOOO

Sully slowed the wagon at the fork in the road leading to his homestead. Michaela snuggled close to his side.

Pulling the vehicle to a stop, he turned on the seat and took her hands.

"Sully...what...?" she sputtered, surprised.

"'Chaela, I got a surprise for ya...we ain't spendin' tonight at the homestead..."

"We aren't?" she was confused, as all along this had been the plan...

"Nope. Hank and his buddies would be sure ta shivaree us, and anyway, I've got somethin' lined up...that is...if you trust me..."

"Trust you?" Michaela whispered. "Sully, I trust you with my very _life_, but what's this..."

He stopped her with a quick, hard kiss, quipping, "That's all I need ta know."

"But Sully...what if..." she began, but anticipating the question, he gently cut in, "Daniel knows where we'll be – but he's got strict orders _not_ to come for us unless it's life or death," he added firmly.

Glancing around as he turned to take up the reins again and pull them hard to the left to take the other fork, he pursed his lips and gave a perfect imitation of a mourning dove, his 'song."

Immediately, Michaela's heart began to pound in anticipation of Sully's surprise as an Indian she had seen before at the reservation emerged from the trees and signaled to her husband, who nodded and flicked the reins, sending the wagon forward. Michaela turned in her seat to watch as the Indian quickly obliterated the vehicle's tracks with a leafy branch, then sprinted to the woods, emerging on horseback – with a large bunch of leaf covered limbs tied together with a cord. The Indian guided his horse to fall in behind their wagon, dragging the branches behind, effectively erasing their trail. To the casual onlooker, or inexperienced tracker, it would appear their wagon had simply vanished.

Michaela turned back to her new husband, but he merely kept his face forward, a dimpled smile plastered on his cheeks.

Now, the part of the day he had been waiting for – well, one of them – was about to begin.


	60. Chapter 60

CHAPTER 60

By the time Sully pulled the wagon to a stop on the outskirts of the Cheyenne village, Michaela was sure she had figured out his surprise – they would spend their wedding night there, safe among their friends and not alone at the homestead at the mercy of Hank Lawson and his drunken, rowdy cohorts.

Cloud Dancing came toward them from between two teepees.

"Haho, my brother. Dr. Mike."

"Haho, Cloud Dancin'," Sully greeted as Michaela smiled warmly in reply. Jumping down from the wagon, Sully immediately turned and raised his arms to lift his bride down, his warm hands easily spanning her slender waist. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Sully faced his friend and they shared a quick 'man' hug.

"Everything is arranged. Snowbird and Little Sparrow are awaiting Dr. Mike in the lodge nearest the stream," the kind Medicine Man immediately explained, knowing Sully wished to waste no time.

"Thanks," he murmured, reaching to take his bride by the hand. She followed silently, carefully holding up the train of her dress, smiling and nodding to people she had met before as everyone stopped what they were doing to stand and stare at the white couple in their midst. None of them had ever seen a dress such as the Medicine Woman was wearing, and they reacted with awe and admiring whispers.

When they reached the teepee Cloud Dancing had indicated, Sully turned to face his bride, taking her hands in his.

"'Chaela...I wanted to surprise ya. See...I feel like the Cheyenne are my family now...but they couldn't be with me to share the happiest time in my life – our gettin' married. So, I asked Cloud Dancin' if they would let us be married again – here." He paused, searching her eyes for her reaction, but only seeing mild shock. "Will ya? Will ya marry me...again?"

Speechless, Michaela's eyes filled at the thought of all the trouble her new husband had gone to, to ensure her happiness while garnering a little of his own. How could she say no? Though most men would have only been thinking of their own sexual pleasure on their wedding night, _this_ man was something special.

"Yes, I'll marry you – again, and again, and again, as many times as you want," she answered with an emotive catch in her voice.

He laughed out loud and leaned in to kiss her soundly. "Twice'll be enough," he murmured against her cheek as she held on to his sides, wishing at that moment just for some time alone with her new husband. Just then, Snowbird lifted the door flap behind them.

"Enough of that. Go on. Shew," she fussed, sweeping her hands at him to go as he responded with a chuckle and took a step back, lifting his hands in surrender. "We have much preparation to do...and so do _you_," she stated firmly, but with a twinkle in her eyes as she took hold of Michaela's hand and ushered her friend inside the lodge. The bride turned her head just in time to see her groom hurrying away with his brother.

Michaela greeted Little Sparrow and the young Indian woman smiled shyly in greeting, gazing enraptured at Michaela's breathtaking dress and thinking she totally understood why Blue Hawk was so enamored with this woman. Michaela wasn't sure what to expect, but having heard her friend say there was much preparation to be done, she murmured, "I've never been to a Cheyenne wedding...what will happen?"

Snowbird smiled and laid a hand on Michaela's arm. "In the ways of our people, the bride is placed upon a horse and led through the center of the village, to her groom. This is so all the eligible warriors will see that she is taken," she added with a chuckle.

Michaela blushed a little, picturing herself sitting astride a bareback horse, being paraded through the village...but she set her mind to do everything they instructed – if it would make Sully happy. He had sacrificed for _her_ – wearing the tuxedo, learning her favorite dance...standing in the hot sun while wedding photographs were taken...

Snowbird went on to explain several things that would take place during the ceremony, while she and Little Sparrow set about taking down Michaela's elaborate hairdo.

"The bride must cleanse and purify herself," Snowbird was saying. "We will help you bathe and perfume your body with scented oils that will be sure to please your new husband," she added with a knowing smile.

Michaela bit her lip at this last remark, her mind immediately focusing on the subject she had been avoiding all day...the moment when she would face the unknown, and Sully would make her his wife – in the Biblical sense. Although her mother, Marjorie, _and_ Charlotte had taken her aside and tried to reassure her, they had only confused and frightened her more. Her mother embarrassingly gave her tips on how to 'get through' Sully's husbandly use of her body. Marjorie was a trifle more graphic, explaining what Sully would expect of her – but this only added to her 'fretting'.

Charlotte had taken pity on her at this point and encouraged Michaela to just relax and allow her new husband to school her in the art of love, assuring her that it was 'as easy as fallin' off a log.' Before she could grasp the full concept of this, however, it had been time to go to the church.

Now, she swallowed dryly and met her friend's dark eyes, her mind swimming in misconceptions and exaggerated fears. Snowbird immediately understood.

Little Sparrow, at that moment, slipped out of the teepee to retrieve some supplies, so Snowbird knelt down at her friend's side.

"There is no need to be afraid, Dr. Mike...Sully will not hurt you."

Michaela blushed a bit at her friend's perception, but her fear and curiosity spurred her on.

"Snowbird...were you frightened on your wedding night...your first time?"

Snowbird's eyes shifted a bit as her mind retraced the years back to when she and Cloud Dancing had been newlyweds, and so very young. They had both been innocent when they married_._

She turned her eyes again to her friend. "I was a little afraid, yes...of the unknown. Cloud Dancing was afraid also, he told me this later. But...we found our way, _together_. And so will you and Sully."

"But Snowbird...what should _I_ do...I mean when he...I don't know..." she stammered in near desperation, having always been afraid she would make a fool of herself...be somehow inadequate, unable to satisfy him...in essence, disappoint him.

The wise Indian woman smiled understandingly and patted Michaela's hand. "There is nothing the woman _must_ do for the man to be satisfied. _He_ does all of the work," she answered with a soft chuckle. Michaela pressed her lips together, fighting embarrassment, as images played across her mind. "But there are things we _can_ do if we choose, such as caress his body as he caresses yours. Kiss him with enthusiasm. He will let you know the things he enjoys."

Michaela looked down, so many questions and concerns bottled up inside...

"Your husband is a gentle man, Dr. Mike," Snowbird continued softly, her eyes full of understanding and concern. "He knows you are innocent in the ways of a man. You need only relax and trust him. Let him guide you."

Something in her friend's words finally cracked the hard shell of Michaela's fear, and she gave a nod, took a deep breath, and set her shoulders, determined to enjoy the rest of the afternoon...and the night.

She leaned and gave her friend a heartfelt hug. Then with matching smiles, the women continued with Michaela's transformation into a beautiful Indian maiden – in anticipation of joining with her handsome brave.

OOOOOOOO

For the second time that day, Sully stood next to a man who was like a brother to him as they waited for his bride to arrive. This time, however, he had been transformed into a vision in buckskin, wearing with honor Cloud Dancing's magnificent wedding shirt Snowbird had painstakingly made for him many years before. It had elongated edges that reached down his thighs, long sleeves, and was decorated with many beads and porcupine quills. Sully unconsciously ran his hand over the decoration on the front, fidgeting a little under the weight of the heavy garment.

Standing with his brother within the ceremonial fire circle, Cloud Dancing, feeling the need to give the younger man a little 'fatherly' advice, cleared his throat and murmured with a smile, "A good marriage is one of the most important things a man can make in his lifetime." Sully pursed his lips and nodded solemnly.

"We are the lucky ones. We found women strong enough to carry the weight of a good marriage." Sully met his friend's eyes as he continued, "That the hurt you carried in your heart has healed, and you will find happiness with a wife again...this is good, and reminds me of the happiness I share with Snowbird."

Sully once again nodded, thinking of the difference in that day and the day of his wedding to Abagail. They had eloped to Denver and had no one to stand up with them, only the Justice of the Peace and his wife. Abagail had cried all the way home in the wagon. Not a very good way to start a life...

Across the camp, drums commenced to beat, charging the air with a feeling of excitement. The Medicine Man looked up then and touched his brother's arm to get his attention. The bride was heading their way.

Sully fixed his eyes on Michaela as she floated toward him for the second time that day, and as before, her beauty took his breath away. She wore no veil this time, and her hair had been let down from its elaborate coiffure. Brushed to a lovely coppery sheen, it softly cascaded down her back. Perched astride a beautiful white stallion, led by Cloud Dancing and Snowbird's son, Walks on Clouds, she wore Snowbird's wedding dress – a lovely white deer hide creation, with long white fringe streaming from the short sleeves, and in two tiers around the V-shaped skirt. A wide blue beadwork belt with white decorations accentuated her shapely figure, and the beaded and fringed design on the bodice completed the breathtaking display.

Once again, she was a vision in white. Sully's heart pounded in time with the beat of the drums and he moistened his lips as he stared at her, mesmerized.

Michaela, having been thoroughly readied for her joining with Sully, both physically _and_ emotionally, gazed at him adoringly as she was led forward. Self-conscious at first to be put on 'display' in such a way, that feeling quickly evaporated under the heat of Sully's ardent gaze. A fleeting smile crossed her face, the rhythm of the horse's hooves having a hypnotizing effect...the world seemed to fade away save for the gorgeous man, wearing an amazingly elaborate wedding shirt waiting as the horse slowly carried her toward him.

As Walks on Clouds brought the stallion to a stop, Sully stepped to the left side of the mount and, eyes blazing with a mixture of desire and pride, reached up for his bride. She smiled down at him, and he wondered what thoughts were going through her mind. He couldn't help but notice her legs were barely covered by the fringe of her dress, peeking out above white calf-high beaded and fringed moccasins, and he gulped as she gracefully maneuvered a leg over the horse, and slid into his waiting arms.

Many a maiden, who had harbored hidden feelings of infatuation for the unattached man who had spent many days and nights in their village, now stood observing the white couple and feeling pangs of jealousy for the way _Otá'taveaénohe _[Blue Hawk] gazed with such devotion at Dr. Mike. With sighs of longing, each secretly hoped to someday find a brave who would consider _her_ his _Heartsong_ in such a way...

Lowering Michaela to the ground, Sully had to fight the urge to kiss her lips, which seemed to be longing for his touch. Instead he took her hand and led her to where Cloud Dancing stood patiently beside Black Kettle. The chief had gone all out for the occasion, wearing his full headdress and ceremonial garb, his American flag draped over his shoulder.

The bride and groom took their places, feeling every bit as nervous and excited as they had hours earlier stepping before the Reverend.

Black Kettle smiled at each one and speaking slowly, he asked Michaela a question in Cheyenne. Sully understood, but out of respect he let Cloud Dancing, as the tribe's Holy Man, translate.

"Our Chief asks is this a decision you are making of your own free will."

Michaela glanced at Sully, but he merely smiled. She smiled back, and turned to Black Kettle, answering carefully in Cheyenne as Snowbird had coached her, "Atsêhamóhe." [Oh, Yes!]

With a pleased smile, the chief looked to the side and gave a signal, and an elderly woman shuffled over with a gourd basin full of water.

Cloud Dancing instructed the bride and groom to wash their hands in sight of the assembly, symbolizing the cleansing away of evil and of previous relationships. Reverently, they obeyed.

Next, Black Kettle signaled Snowbird to come forward with her gift to the couple – a soft, beautifully woven blanket, with different shades of blue in the design of a hawk, perched on a rock within a circle of stones and strategically placed feathers. Michaela smiled appreciation at her friend and gave her a quick hug, murmuring, "It's lovely Snowbird, thank you!"

Sully knew instantly the significance – a hawk resting inside a 'medicine wheel,' his 'sister-in-law's' clever way of including them both. Snowbird stepped up behind her friends and reverently draped the large blanket around their shoulders together.

Michaela grasped the edge of the soft cover and shared an affectionate glance with her husband, as it necessitated them to press closer together.

Black Kettle spoke once again to Michaela, with Cloud Dancing translating. "Once married, an Indian man can never divorce the woman, only the woman can divorce the man. We call that 'splitting the blanket'," he explained. "All the woman needs to do is give him his weapons, his clothes, and his coat. Toss them outside the lodge. It is done."

Michaela smiled and turned her eyes to meet Sully's, murmuring with her adorable half smile, "Nâh tsê móné'e." [Not _this _woman]_._ Sully's eyes twinkled in merriment as he imagined for a moment coming home to the homestead and watching his belongings flying out the door, as she grumbled and fretted over something he had done to make her angry.

The assembled crowd murmured approvingly at her answers, nodding among themselves. Many of the braves quietly envied Blue Hawk, though they would never otherwise admit to being attracted to a 'white' woman.

The old woman just then brought to the chief a clay vase intricately decorated in blue, white, and red geometric designs, which featured two spouts that led to the same base. Cloud Dancing explained that this was their wedding vase and would be theirs to take home.

In Cheyenne, Black Kettle instructed them to drink from the vase, each in turn from their designated spout. As the bride and groom obeyed, the Medicine Man added, "This act symbolizes the joining of two individuals to make a new life."

Smiling once more, Black kettle retrieved from a pack on his belt a long string of beads on a thin strand of rawhide, knotted on each end. He motioned, and Cloud Dancing instructed the couple to entwine their hands. The chief stepped closer and reached to grasp their hands, winding the strand loosely around them, symbolically 'tying' them together.

In Cheyenne, the chief made another statement, translated, "The commitment you are making to each other, you are making to the Creator, the Great Spirit. In our culture, you, Sully, cannot break this commitment."

Sully nodded, thinking that would never happen, anyway. "Héne'ëna," he murmured softly. [I understand].

"Oóxésta," the old chief smiled. [Very good].

Holding onto their bound hands, Black Kettle tipped his head back for a moment as if seeking a blessing from the spirits, and then looked solemnly into the eyes of first the bride, and then the groom. The Medicine Man raised a large dream catcher decorated with several long feathers above their heads, translating as the chief pronounced a blessing over them in Cheyenne:

_Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other._

_Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other._

_Now there is no more loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other._

_Now you are two bodies, but there is only one life before you._

_Go now to your dwelling place, to enter into the days of your togetherness_

_And may your days be good and long upon the earth.*_

Michaela, her eyes filled with tears of happiness, jumped slightly as the drums started up suddenly and a shout rose from the assembled villagers. It was done. The two were now joined.

Laughing happily, Snowbird drew near as she and Cloud Dancing embraced the newly joined pair.

"It is our custom for the married couple to kiss under the blanket," the Medicine Man instructed with a grin as he removed the beaded cord binding their hands together.

Sully laughingly adjusted the blanket to cover both of their heads, and drew Michaela into his arms. Their foreheads touching in the dark interior, Sully whispered to his twice-over bride, "I love you, _Heséeotá'e_." [Medicine Woman]. Grinning with happiness, she responded, "And I love you, _Otá'taveaénohe." _[Blue Hawk] "And don't worry," she added mischievously as she gently rubbed noses with him, "I promise to never toss your belongings out the door of the homestead – no matter how angry with you I might be."

"Glad to hear it," he whispered as his lips finally claimed hers, once again celebrating their union with a heartfelt kiss.

* * *

*This wedding prayer is not actually Cheyenne, I merely used it for my purposes.

To see more detail of Michaela's Cheyenne wedding dress and their wedding vase, go to pinterest .com and add to its url address in your browser: /linda4him59/michaelas-choice/

This chapter took a full weekend of research and two weeks of writing. If you enjoyed their Cheyenne wedding and you'd like to read about their wedding night, let me know. ;)

Thanks Adri for the new book cover! And Audrey for your expert polish!


	61. Chapter 61

_A/N – I want to say thank you to each person who heeded my request and left me a message, the signed and the unsigned, long and short – I treasured them all. _

_And now, their wedding night...but first, a chuckle..._

CHAPTER 61

The celebration had been going for a half hour – the longest half hour Sully had spent in quite a while. It seemed that this day – his double wedding day – was lasting forever, and his patience had worn terribly thin. Since he had kissed his wife under their 'joining' blanket, his frustration level had been building steadily.

All around them, the people of the Cheyenne village were having a great time, celebrating the beautiful 'joining' of the Medicine Woman and 'Blue Hawk'...the drummers were in fine form, the tempo of their drumming increasing with the frenzy of the celebration. People were dancing and shouting, making 'merry', even Michaela seemed to be enjoying herself, although she _had_ given him quite a few surreptitious glances as the night wore on.

They were sitting side by side, a hair's breadth from one another – but for Sully, she might as well be across the clearing. He ached to touch her, hold her, kiss her – heck – he ached to get on with their wedding night, for cripes sake! But he held himself in check, thinking they would insult their hosts if they left too soon. Unconsciously, he let out an aggravated sigh as he reached for a water bag. The deerskin wedding shirt was heavy and made him itch...and his _hands_ itched with the desire to rid Michaela of her beautiful dress. He wanted to yell, shout, run, stand up and roar in frustration, punch something...but alas, he did nothing but grind his teeth together.

Michaela sighed softly, glancing at her husband for the hundredth time. She wondered how long he would wish to remain at what was now their second wedding reception. She knew he enjoyed everything about the Cheyenne way of life, and she did _too_, for the most part. But...this was their _wedding_ night...the sun had already fallen below the horizon...didn't he want to be alone with her? She was starting to wonder...

Just then, Snowbird stopped on her way past with a basket of food and bent down to whisper in her friend's ear. "Dr. Mike...is everything alright?"

Michaela plastered a smile on her face and turned her head to meet her friend's eyes – but she didn't have to say a word, Snowbird just _knew._ "I'll handle this," the sassy Cheyenne murmured with a wink.

Moving on past her and Sully to her husband, she stooped to hand him the basket of food, met his eyes, gave him 'the look', and flashed her eyes toward Sully. Cloud Dancing understood instantly – his brother needed rescuing. He gave his shrewd wife a nod.

Clearing his throat and leaning toward his brooding friend, he murmured, "Have you forgotten where we moved your teepee?"

Sully, who had been in the act of taking a drink of water, practically spit it out in reaction. He glanced at his friend, his eyes wide. "But I thought..."

Cloud Dancing raised one eyebrow. "Most husbands toss their new bride over their shoulder and head to their lodge as soon as they come out from under the joining blanket, amid shouts of encouragement from the other braves. When you did not, we thought perhaps white men are less..._enthusiastic_..." he added, not needing to explain further.

Feeling as if a ton of weight had fallen off his shoulder, Sully stifled a shout of relief and nearly jumped to his feet. Reaching for the hand of a startled Michaela, he growled, "C'mon _wife_, it's time ta go."

"But...Sully," she sputtered, though not intending to argue, merely that his sudden spurt of action surprised her.

"No arguin', I've waited long enough," he added as he grasped both of her hands and tugged her to her feet. Then for good measure, he quickly leaned over and before she could utter a sound, scooped her up over his shoulder like an elegantly dressed sack of potatoes. She let out a squeal.

The braves near them looked over and chuckled with approving nods, thinking it was about time Blue Hawk took the very desirable Medicine Woman to their honeymoon teepee.

Embarrassed, knowing they were the center of attention, all Michaela could do was brace her arms against his back as he marched to the horses. Cloud Dancing, Snowbird, and several of their friends followed, calling encouragement to her suddenly very determined husband. "Véstaenóvem!" [Have fun] "Nóhta'xanéhne'tov?" [Need help?]

Reaching his mount, Sully grasped her by her hips and in one swift move, hoisted her up onto the horse's back, immediately vaulting up behind her. For good measure, and the amusement of their audience, he grasped her head and kissed her, hard, chuckling in response to the shouts of approval behind him as he reached around her and took up the reins.

With a 'yah!' and a hard nudge to the horse's sides, they took off into the night.

OOOOOOOO

They could hear the people of the Cheyenne village continuing the celebration without them as they ambled along on the horse, the beat of the drums accelerating faster and faster, adding to the sense of expectancy and exhilaration they both felt – to finally be alone, and _married._

Draped across Sully's thighs, the lovely white beaded fringe of Michaela's dress cascaded around them like slender strands of jewels reflecting in the moonlight. Her hands clutched his back tightly as his arms supported her, just like when he had returned her to the fort the day he rescued her from the runaway horse. Only this time, it was a comfortably warm night, she was deliriously happy, they were _married – twice over - _and they were kissing...on and on, an endless kiss that sent time spinning somewhere off into space.

Sully wasn't even guiding the horse – it was a good thing it knew instinctively where to go.

Coming up for air a bit later, both of them breathless and experiencing euphoric tingles, Michaela became aware that the animal had stopped – at the entrance flap of a solitary teepee, and she realized she could barely hear the revelry of the village anymore. They were totally alone. Their wagon had been brought to the dwelling and stood, with all its garish decorations, on the far side of the teepee.

Starry-eyed, she turned her head to glance around as Sully moved his lips sensually to her cheek and neck.

"Mmm, you taste good..." he moaned softly, his voice rumbling against her skin. "Ya smell good, too," he murmured, breathing in her scent. She always smelled good to him, and he knew she habitually used what he thought of as 'fancy soap', but tonight she smelled positively heavenly...and downright intoxicating.

"Where are we?" she murmured hazily, barely able to form the words, as her whole consciousness was centered on Sully and his exhilarating ministrations.

"On our honeymoon," he mumbled against her neck, and then tipped his head back and added with a boisterous shout, "FINALLY!" She chuckled at his antics. Gazing back into her eyes, he added with a suggestive growl, "I thought I'd never getcha alone...that second weddin' reception 'bout killed me."

She giggled in agreement, and her eyes twinkled in merriment as he leaned in and touched his lips to hers. Then the next second, he slid from the horse and reached up to grab their joining blanket Cloud Dancing had placed over the neck of the horse. Tossing it across his shoulder, he lifted his arms to help Michaela down. They gazed at one another for a moment... his eyes, as well as the decorations on the magnificent shirt, twinkled in the bright light of the full moon beaming from over her right shoulder and casting its hazy glow on his countenance. With a dreamy sigh, she allowed herself to slip trustingly from the horse's back and into her husband's strong arms.

As she slid down his body, they melded into another kiss – warm, deep, and oh so sensuous, their hands tangling in each other's hair.

When Sully finally released her lips and tilted his head back enough to see her face, she smiled languorously and started to turn toward the teepee, but swiftly found herself swept up into his arms, the tiny beads on the fringe of her dress jingling merrily.

He grinned at her look of surprise. "_What_? Gotta carry ya over the threshold...even if it _is_ just grass."

She chuckled at his teasing and reached to hold the door flap out of their way as he clasped her to his chest and ducked to enter the dwelling.

Setting her on her feet in the semi-darkness as she dropped the flap shut, he quickly moved to the center ring and knelt to strike a match, lighting the kindling and logs he had arranged the day before. As it caught and grew, it slowly began to illuminate the interior of their cozy, cone-shaped honeymoon getaway.

Michaela cast her gaze around the interior, which she recognized immediately as Sully's teepee, and observed that their belongings had been brought inside the structure, including Michaela's small traveling valise and she wondered fleetingly what it contained. She noted the customary supply of firewood stacked to one side, a coffee pot and two cups on a rock near the fire, a wicker bowl covered with a cloth, and several other items and familiar woven rugs, which covered the grass floor of their lodge.

Glancing to the far side across from the entrance, she gazed for a moment at the bed of buffalo skins and soft furs, over which a multi-colored blanket was suspended by two poles and angled downward toward the outer wall, a bit like a canopy bed. Her mind went back for a moment to a stormy night in that very teepee; lying on that very bed with the man she loved, when he asked her to be his wife...

His red and black blanket poncho was folded and lying off to the side, no doubt to be used for cover in the chilly air of the following morning.

That thought made her blush and she pictured the two of them, naked and entwined as they surely would be, and her heart seemed to jump like a horse at the start of a race. Tingles of anticipation pulsed through her body, and she swallowed, a little nervously. The time had come...the weddings were over...they were alone...

Determinedly, she pushed away every other piece of 'helpful' information she had been given that day and chose instead to focus on the advice Snowbird had given as her wise Cheyenne friend had helped her onto the white horse for her ride through the camp. _Relax. Breathe. Trust him. Allow yourself to enjoy being with your husband._

Sully stood and gently removed the blanket from his shoulder, dropping it near the bed. Then turning, he gazed at her as she stood just inside the opening - and felt his breath catch as he admired her beauty. She was standing demurely, her hands lightly clasping her forearms as the long fringe of her sleeves floated serenely about and lightly jingled with every move she made. The blue belt accentuated her slender waist, its beads sparkling from the light of the fire, and her feet in the white moccasin boots were just visible through the fringe at the bottom of the dress. Once again, she was a vision, ethereal, very much like when her image had come to him during his quest.

"I can't believe we're really here," he murmured, almost to himself, as he swallowed in anticipation, unconsciously wiping suddenly damp hands down the sides of his shirt.

She was just gazing at him, admiring the handsome picture he made in the magnificent Cheyenne wedding shirt, a dreamy expression on her lovely face.

His voice just barely above a whisper, he murmured, "This spot is where I stayed on my vision quest." She stood spellbound as he began to share with her the most profound experience of his life. "You came to me...twice. First time...you were wearin' all white, your hair flowin' free, fluffin' in the breeze...I caught your hand and pulled you down on the fur with me, and ya _let_ me..." he paused, his eyes sparkling as he remembered. "We rolled around, kissin'...it was so real I could taste ya, and feel your warmth...but then ya just disappeared."

Tears welled in her eyes as he slowly sauntered toward her, his words causing within her a heightening of every physical sense as he continued, "That night, you came to me again...and I saw ya just as clear as I do now...ya knelt on the ground next ta me and just stared down at me...lookin' like an angel...ya reached out and touched my face – and I felt your fingers," he whispered, the memory putting him in awe again, as if it were happening right then.

Having reached her, his hand found hers and raised it to his cheek as she had done in his vision.

Michaela felt chill bumps break out on her skin at this revelation. His eyes searched hers as he went on, "Ya whispered to me to come home. You said, 'Don't you know that true love would transcend riches, position, or influence? If this is a stumbling block for you, hear my heart, Sully. Please come back...talk to me'," he recited, her words forever branded on his heart.

She gasped softly, remembering when she had whispered those exact words to his image in her mind, as she longed for him to return from somewhere 'out there'. To think that he had _heard_ her, with so many miles separating them, rendered her speechless...the strength of their spiritual connection awe-inspiring.

"When I woke up the next mornin'...I knew my quest was done...I knew...my future was with _you_," he whispered as he drew her gently into his arms and up against his body.

"Oh Sully...while you were gone those three months...I missed you so..." she whispered, her hands rising again, drawn to touch the softness of his hair as his lips descended to touch hers, sweetly, softly, repeatedly, their breaths mingling as mouths opened, each craving the other's very essence. With a soft grunt of anticipation, Sully gently swept her into his arms as he turned and slowly carried her to the bed of furs on the far side, by now, both of them lost in their kiss.

He went to his knees next to the furs, and gently set her down as their lips clung desperately. Enraptured, they moaned softly as he moved his lips to her slender neck. She tracked him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and nuzzling it as his ministrations caused tingles of anticipation to course through her again. She breathed him in, his scent so enticing, so _masculine_, enjoying the fresh scent of his hair, and a bit of the aftershave he had used that morning. A tiny smile graced her face as she felt his chin nuzzle her neck, and she pictured, correctly, his painstaking efforts at shaving that morning – to please her with the results.

With her eyes closed, she felt him move his hands to her back as he continued to kiss and suckle her neck, his nimble fingers beginning to loosen the laces holding the back of her dress closed. She raised one hand and swept her hair to the side to help him, enjoying the feel of his lips and tongue on her skin.

Soon, however, she felt the form-fitting dress loosen as the laces came free, dipping in the front as it sagged down her shoulders. Involuntarily, she softly gasped. The _moment_ was fast approaching. Snowbird had convinced her not to wear her silken under things beneath the snug garment...so the dress was her only covering. Sully would very soon see her naked for the first time. Despite herself, she began to tremble shyly.

He felt her soft intake of breath and correctly read her mind, leaning back a bit to be able to see her face in the flickering light. He had already made the discovery, as his hands had caressed her through the dress, that she wore nothing under it...much like the first time he had seen her in an Indian dress...

"Don't worry," he whispered, moving one hand to softly cup her face. "We'll take it ever so easy."

She blushed a bit at his knowing remark, and gave him a soft nod, though her teeth caught her bottom lip as she recited silently, _relax...breathe...trust him..._ hating that nerves were making her quiver.

Pausing a moment to allow her to regroup, Sully sat back on his heels and slowly, carefully, drew the elaborate shirt up and over his head, tossing it to one side. Glad to be free of the heavy garment, he ran one hand back through his tousled hair as he smiled lovingly at his bride and purposely reached for one of her feet. Nimbly unlacing and removing the moccasin, he tossed it near his discarded shirt, his eyes smolderingly holding her gaze.

While he cradled her bare foot in his warm hands, she leaned back a bit and braced her elbows on the fur beneath her, watching him and wondering what he would do. He raised her foot to his mouth, pressing a kiss to its sole. "Mmm, you smell good all over," he murmured throatily as he lovingly nuzzled her foot, and she silently thanked her friend for her wisdom and help in 'readying' her for the night's events. When he wrapped his lips around one of her toes, and caressed it for a moment with his tongue, she couldn't help but gasp as his actions caused erotic sensations to shoot straight to her core. As he repeated the actions with the other foot, her lips parted and she watched, mesmerized, innocent putty in his experienced hands.

Pleased at her receptiveness, he stretched forward to give her lips a soft kiss, lingering until he felt her begin to relax and lift her hands to his face. Then he pulled back and his eyes met hers, the passion in his searing into hers as he reached down to the belt around her waist. She felt the tension escalate as he waited a moment before disengaging the clasp, and tossing it toward the growing pile. Now it was _his_ turn to silently recite, _relax...breathe..._as he didn't want to hurry the moment, but to give her time to be as prepared for their joining as possible. The last thing he wanted to do was rush it and cause her unnecessary discomfort.

He paused and allowed his eyes to caress her form as she half sat, half lay on the furs – her long, luxurious hair sensually tousled by the rifling of his hands, and tumbling around her now bare shoulders, her eyes alive with passion, and a tiny bit of fear of the unknown, her lips red from his kisses and parted as if yearning for more.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered. "I've dreamed 'a this moment so many times..."

"So have I," she admitted softly, watching as he reached for one of her hands and brought it to his lips, his eyes closing as he pressed a kiss to her fingers. Opening them, he stared into hers, mesmerizing her with the depth of emotion he allowed her to see.

"I love you..." he rasped emotively.

"Sully..." she sighed breathlessly. "I love you, too."

The look in her eyes let him know she was trusting him to take them to and through the next step, so he leaned in, one hand cupping her head as he began to kiss her – and lower her gently down onto the furs. Her heart began to pound as his lips moved to her cheek, then her neck, and she felt his hands begin to slide her dress down her arms and chest. He didn't stop, but continued, gently maneuvering and prompting her to lift her hips, until he could slip the elaborate garment from her body, leaving her totally exposed to his loving gaze.

She swallowed nervously and opened her eyes, his gaze hard to read with the flickering fire at his back. Never had she lain naked before a man, not even a doctor. This was new territory for her, and she fought the urge to cover herself. _What is he thinking? _She wondered as she unconsciously held her breath.

Words eluded him as he scanned her form...she was more perfect than he had even imagined, her skin like smooth cream, warm, soft...inviting. She was every man's dream, and he wondered fleetingly what he had done to deserve such a treasure.

Nearly overcome with desire, his hands shaking slightly, he leaned back on his haunches and unfastened the closure on his buckskins, the pounding of his heart matching the cadence of hers. Then he slowly rose to his feet and, his eyes holding hers, he boldly allowed the pants to drop to the ground, exposing to her his aroused form for the first time.

Her eyes shifted down of their own accord, past his deliciously hairy chest, which tapered to a thin line at his belly...her eyes flaring slightly in reaction as she saw the evidence of his desire for the first time. Granted, she had seen him naked when she had cared for him during his fever, but this...this hard-muscled, perfect specimen of aroused masculinity, struck her with both desire and timidity at once. She unconsciously licked suddenly dry lips as she stared unabashedly, wondering if she should be thrilled at his unmistakable virility...or frightened. _Relax...breathe..._

He easily read her reactions, and kicking the pants to the side he knelt on the furs, determined to once and for all rid her of every trace of fear. Leaning over, he began to lovingly and systematically place adoring kisses on her body, starting with her delicate feet, and moving upward to her slender ankles...calves...knees...thighs... He paused for breathtaking moments at her center, but choosing not to delve in, he instead nuzzled the soft, deliciously fragrant curls guarding the entrance to what would soon be his paradise. Continuing on, he caressed and kissed her hips, stomach, and ribs, before spending considerable time concentrating on two very aroused peaks that caught and held his attention.

Michaela thought she would lose all control as her husband worshipped her body. She alternated between closing her eyes and enjoying the sensations he was creating, to opening them to observe him as he concentrated on his actions, the flickering firelight lovingly caressing his wavy hair, and his skin...so tan down to his waist, then lighter from there down. His lips and tongue, so warm, smooth, and sensually wet, left delicious trails and gooseflesh along the surface of her skin as he worked his way up her body. Her breath had caught as he had paused at her most private place, then released as a sigh when he moved on, leaving her with a confusing mixture of relief and disappointment. But that was soon replaced with euphoria as he worked his way up. When he paused at her breasts, kissing, suckling, and caressing them, she felt the last of her inhibitions begin to melt. The moment they had both waited for was upon them. _Relax and enjoy being with your husband,_ Snowbird's voice reminded.

Emboldened, she reached out her hands, her fingers sliding into the waves of his hair as she gently grasped his head. He looked up and his heart began to pound faster as he saw her lips were parted, breath coming in soft shudders of desire, her eyes practically glowing with passion. Though she said not a word, he understood. She was ready.

Taking in a shuddering breath, he leaned to touch his lips to hers as her eyes fluttered shut, his right hand slipping down to coax her thighs apart, but she anticipated his request and opened to him. He settled between her legs, bracing his weight on his elbows, his hands in her hair as he peppered her face with kisses, finally connecting with her eager mouth.

She could feel his manhood pressing against her private place. Her womanhood pulsed with expectation, the suspense nearly driving her mad. Did he not understand what she needed? Not knowing how to let him know what she wanted, she remembered Snowbird's advice..._follow his lead_. Boldly, she gripped the sides of his head and kissed him with all the passion built up inside her - and his restraint disintegrated.

With a groan of sensual frustration, he reached down and guided himself to her entrance, both of them panting with anticipation, as he began to push inside. He felt when he reached her innocence, but knowing it had to be done, he kissed her hard and deep, and kept going until he carefully pushed through, blanching a bit when he felt her gasp and wince with the brief, but searing, pain.

Mercifully, it was over within seconds, the sharp pain melting away and replaced by the most incredible sensations she had ever experienced. In all of her dreams and imaginings about her wedding night, Michaela had never anticipated the onslaught of physical sensations their joining would bring, and that it would affect her whole body, making her feel at once vitally alive and positively intoxicated...as if she had taken a sip of champagne. Every nerve ending in her body seemed to be vibrating like strummed guitar strings. She moaned in pleasure, her hands unconsciously moving to his shoulders and reflexively gripping him tight as he began to move, his rhythm slow and careful at first, but soon picking up speed as he felt her core relax and adjust...and respond.

Sully broke off their kiss and buried his face in her hair as he submerged himself into his bride's sweet, moist warmth. "Ahh 'Chaela...you feel so _good_," he whispered against her ear, adding a few graphic descriptions of what it felt like to be inside her. She blushed at his frankness, embarrassed...yet pleased. No man had ever used such words to her, and she realized, a little shocked, _this_ _must be how married couples talk in private_.

She nuzzled against his cheek as he rocked with her, pressing her lips against his skin as she sighed, "Sullyyyy..."

"You're so wonderful," he crooned, overcome with love for this special woman who was now his _wife..._in every way, and he knew that he would never, ever tire of the feeling of being in her arms. He could barely contain the happiness he felt at that moment...such that his heart seemed to be chanting its own song. She was his _heartsong_...how perfect a description!

He ran a hand down her smooth body as he made sweet love to his bride, gently grasping one shapely leg and coaxing it upwards. She complied instantly, and was rewarded with even more wonderful sensations. He pressed her knee against his side as he worked, his hand sliding beneath the small of her back and teaching her how to meet his thrusts, moving his head to capture her mouth again in a passionate kiss. His tongue pushed its way in, mimicking the actions of the lower half of his body, and Michaela responded, meeting it with her own, a tiny whimper of passion escaping her throat as she was totally caught up in the moment.

They were both soaring above the clouds together, floating on a sea of absolute bliss. Their joining felt so right, so beautiful...each fleetingly wondered how they had waited so long to marry. How could anything feel this good? Each wanted their coupling to go on and on and on, never stopping...

But all too soon, his three years of celibacy having undermined his stamina, not to mention how magnificent his new bride felt inside, Sully groaned as he felt procreation's unstoppable force coming upon him, not unlike the pressure inside a steam boiler that had reached its limit.

He broke their kiss with a moan, dropping his forehead to the furred surface next to Michaela's ear, and clamped his teeth as he tried to hold back his body's celebration of the end of its fast, but it refused to be denied. He only had time to gasp, "'Chaela...I...I can't..." before it crashed full force, and he was helpless to do anything but hang on and ride the wave. And hold on he did, one hand gripping the back of Michaela's neck as he drove his body repeatedly into hers with deep rasping growls, his climax exploding and pulsating so forcefully, it momentarily rendered him lightheaded.

Michaela's medical books had taught her what was happening to her husband at that moment, and although she had not reached that zenith with him, she held fast to his back and shoulders now slick with love's sheen as she allowed him to have his way, and as Snowbird had said, _'Do all the work.'_

She marveled at the sheer magnitude of feelings engulfing her – fierce love for this man who was now her husband, in every way, and intense passion down to the depths of her soul.

Their marriage was now consummated. They were one – in mind, heart, and body. True soul mates that would never be parted.

oooooo

_Don't worry – the story is not over yet!_


	62. Chapter 62

CHAPTER 62

Hank pulled the wagon over to the side of the road and carefully climbed down, trying to make as little noise as possible – though that was difficult considering his state of inebriation. His fellow conspirators climbed out the back, each one a little tipsy and trying not to giggle as they imagined the surprise on Sully's face when they started up what they intended to be a huge cacophony of ungodly noise. Most of them hoped it would happen at an embarrassing time for the unsuspecting bridegroom.

Chuckling softly as he gathered his participants, Hank staggered slightly as he whispered to several of his saloon regulars – men who were truthfully jealous of Sully having won the beautiful doc and hoping to spoil his 'good time' that night. One of them was Jess Howard, a man who had tried to force a kiss on Dr. Mike the first month she was in town, as she was exiting the saloon after treating Myra; only she had been rescued by the Reverend and Robert E. Now, the man had plans to slip into the house and finish what had been interrupted that day, as the men were commandeering Sully for his surprise naked rendezvous with the bare back of a horse. Secretly, the reprobate hoped they would catch the newlyweds near or in the act of consummating their marriage.

Jake helped Dorothy off the back of the wagon, the latter along hoping she could head off at the pass any over-the-top shenanigans (while having a tiny bit of innocent fun at the newlyweds' expense), and the former just because his buddy Hank dared him to do it.

A buggy carrying Daniel and Marjorie pulled up behind the wagon. He reached over and held onto her arm as she turned to get out.

"Marjorie...I told ya...just wait and watch..." he murmured.

"_Wait and watch_?" She repeated, wide-eyed and open mouthed with shock. "How can you sit there when these...these..._miscreants_ are going to ruin what should be one of the most beautiful nights of your best friend's life?" she hissed, glancing back at his hand on her arm. "And I'll thank you not to order _me_ about."

He chuckled and released her. "Okay. But I'll wait here for you."

"You do that, _Mr. Simon,_" she returned frostily, climbing unceremoniously out of the buggy and flashing her escort a withering look as he chuckled again. Not knowing exactly what she could do to stop this so-called 'shivaree', she squared her shoulders and marched on anyway, as she had given her mother and sister her word that she would try.

Daniel watched as the quiet but up-to-no-good mob made its way as silently as it could down the short lane to Sully's homestead. They were, however, making enough noise that the inhabitants of the house could have heard their approach. He shook his head, his white grin flashing in the moonlight as he whispered, "I'm sure glad you thought ahead, my friend."

Hank led the way for the troublemakers to sneak up on the porch, clutching pots, pans, cowbells, whistles, and other noisemakers. Having been in the house before and knowing the bed was right by the door and the window, the barkeep raised a hand and silently counted, _one...two...three..._ and then the entire throng began shouting, whooping, hollering, clanging, and making the most noise they possibly could, each one straining to have a view of the door in hopes that one or both of the inhabitants would fling it open.

After about a minute...with nothing happening...Hank banged his fist on the thick wood of the door next to the oval glass, yelling loudly, "Hey _Sully! _Hey _Michaela! _Come out here, we wanna..._talk_ to ya!"

Nothing. Not a sound. Not a light inside. No smoke coming from the chimney. And now he realized...no garishly decorated wagon sitting outside. _What the heck?_

Hank pressed his hand to the glass of the window by the door and peered inside. The large room was dark and empty.

"WHAT THE...!" he groused, running a hand back through his blond ringlets. "They ain't even _here!"_

"Where the heck _are_ they, then?" Jess Howard griped, yanking off his hat and slapping it against his thigh in anger.

The mob turned as one and stared at the elegantly dressed redhead in their midst. Her eyes grew wide.

"Don't look at _me_! I just came to try and stop you from ruining my sister's wedding night!"

Disappointed and deflated, the ne're-do-wells turned and filed down the steps, feeling like the fools they were.

Daniel drove the buggy down the drive and past the now subdued participants, chuckling softly as he pulled it to a stop next to Marjorie, who stood with her arms crossed over her chest, patting her foot and glaring at him.

"You _knew_, didn't you? You _knew _they weren't even _here!_""

He grinned his most charmingly. "Yep."

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" she demanded, feeling like a fool herself for having gotten so upset and 'fussing' over something that would not have even happened. _Why didn't Michaela tell me?_

"Ya didn't ask," he kept grinning, infuriatingly.

"Well...where _are_ they?" she fumed, pressing her lips together and affecting her most royal manner, wishing he wasn't so darn handsome, especially when he grinned at her in that way.

"Uh uh," he shook his head decisively. "Promised Sully I wouldn't breathe a word to _anybody_, 'cept in case of a dire emergency," he stated flatly, his eyes twinkling as he watched her smolder.

She glared at him in continued fury, but after a few moments, the hilarity of the situation began to get to her and despite herself, a chuckle escaped her clamped lips. Then another. Then before long, they were both laughing gaily at the joke that had been turned around and played on the unsuspecting townspeople. _Serves them right._ Marjorie thought gleefully.

"Well, _wherever_ they are, I hope they are enjoying their wedding night."

For the sake of propriety, Daniel decided not to voice the opinion that Sully was no doubt enjoying himself at that moment. Laughing, he reached down and grasped Marjorie's hand to help her back into the conveyance. "C'mon. I'll take ya back to town."

When she settled herself on the seat next to him, smoothing her skirt and reaching up to check her hat, she paused and glanced at him as he sat watching her. The look on his face sent goose bumps all over her body.

Before she could say a word, he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, his expression one of complete adoration. Her heart skipped a beat as he moistened suddenly dry lips and began, "Marjorie..."

OOOOOOO

At that moment, flickering firelight reflected off both tan and creamy white skin damp from exertion, as the man and woman lay still joined on the bed of furs.

Sully raised his head, still recovering, and pressed his lips to his new wife's warm, moist cheek, drawing in a large shuddering breath before whispering, "You okay?"

Eyes closed, her arms tightened around him and she sighed blissfully, nodding against his cheek as she continued to hold him close.

"Yes, I'm fine," she whispered back, nearly overwhelmed with love, adoration, awe, and sheer joy.

Gathering his strength, he raised himself to his elbows, gently touching his forehead to hers as he softly brushed from her face tendrils of her hair that were dampened from his sweat. "I hated havin' ta hurt ya," he murmured, and she blushed at his reminder that moments ago, he had very thoroughly _taken_ her virginity.

"You didn't," she assured, opening her eyes and gazing up at him in wonder as he tilted his head back a bit. "The pain subsided almost instantly," she added shyly as she met his potent gaze. He was her _husband_ now...in all of the glorious facets of the word. They were one..._still_, she mused with another slight blush, her eyes twinkling with love as her mouth formed its customary crooked smile.

He smiled back, lowering his head to give her a soft kiss and a whispered, "What?"

She shook her head once, moving her hands to tangle in his dampened hair and thinking how much she adored the feeling of bearing his weight as he lay comfortably above her, and still snuggled within. "Nothing. I mean I...I never thought I could ever be this happy...I love you so much."

He smiled again, dreamily, his eyes caressing her face and then locking with hers. "And I love you...and I always will," he vowed softly.

She grinned, suddenly feeling playful. "Even when I'm old and my hair is nothing but long stringy gray strands?"

His eyes took on a serious expression as he continued to gaze into hers. "I'll always love you. I'll always find you as beautiful as I did the first day I saw you."

Her breath caught with the force of emotion and her eyes began to fill.

"Oh Sully..." she whispered, completely at a loss for words. She knew from his expression that he meant that vow to the nether reaches of his soul.

He leaned slowly down, touching his lips to hers, softly, gently as their eyes drifted shut, sealing the promise and the moment in their hearts forever.

Foreheads softly touching, they stayed that way for quite some time as each pictured an identical vision of the future – themselves in their eighties, still in love, still preferring each other's company above all others, still feeling those delicious tingles from one another's touch or kiss...

Then finally unable to maintain their connection any longer, Sully shifted to Michaela's side and drew her with him, settling her in the circle of his embrace. Raising her head a bit to glance down his body – and blushing as she viewed for a moment the obvious evidence of their loving, and of her first time - she carefully maneuvered one leg over his, still new to the art of snuggling naked with a man.

She laid her head in the curve of his neck, staring across him at the low flames of the fire, and enjoying the steady beat of his heart against her ear. She had never felt closer to heaven than she did at that moment...nor had she ever felt closer to another human being...

Smiling dreamily as he snuggled with her, one hand softly caressing her arm as the other gently gripped her shoulder, he murmured sensually, "I figured it'd be _good_ with you...but oh man...it was better than my wildest dreams."

She smiled at his words, nuzzling her forehead against his neck as she whispered shyly, "I pleased you, then? I mean...I didn't...you didn't..." she stammered, suddenly embarrassed to be asking him if she had done anything during sex that displeased him.

His eyes opened, brows furrowing. "Pleased me? Oh 'Chaela...more than I have words to explain..." he paused, hugging her closer as he grappled for a way to say what was in the deepest regions of his heart.

"Remember on our rides at the fort, one time we talked about poetry?" he murmured softly.

She nodded. "When we quoted together Lord Byron's, 'She Walks in Beauty'?"

"Mmm hmm," he nodded, his hand finding a lock of her hair and absently twining it around and through his fingers. "Well...I found a book of poetry one time and I read some of it. It was kinda racy," he added with a dimpled smirk. "Part of it went somethin' like this: _You have given me love – therefore I to you give love. O unspeakable passionate love. Cushion me soft, rock me in billowy drowse, Dash me with amorous wet – I can repay you..."_

"Sully!" Michaela gasped, interrupting him, her face beet red. "That's from _Leaves of Grass_ by Walt Whitman..."

"Yeah," he nodded, but she went on, "My father had hundreds of books of poetry...but I remember when that one was published. It was one that he...well...discouraged us from reading. It's so...explicit..."

"Yep," he agreed, a naughty grin forming on his handsome face. "But...it's how I feel in my heart right now...when we were lovin'...you were perfect...you did everythin' just right... you were soft, warm, you cushioned me, you rocked me, you dashed..."

"I see!" she interrupted again, pressing her face into his neck as her cheeks burned with shame, picturing herself earlier 'dashing him with amorous wet', _oh my goodness!_

"May we talk about something else, please?" she gasped, turning even more red when she heard and felt him chuckle.

He pressed his lips to her flushed temple. "Alright. I'm sorry...didn't mean ta embarrass ya."

When she didn't answer, he moved a hand, touching his fingers to her chin and urging her to look at him. When she did, she didn't see laughter or teasing in his eyes, but only fierce and complete love. The emotion in those breathtaking blue windows to his soul immediately caused her to forget her shame as she stared back, spellbound.

"When ya gonna realize...ta me you're perfect..." he whispered, causing her eyes to immediately begin to fill as he continued, "I love everythin' about ya. Your name..._Mi...chae...la_..." he crooned, threading his fingers into the long tresses and allowing them to flow through like silk. "Wow, I jus' love it. Love your hair...love your eyes...love your voice...'specially when you say my name..." he added with a soft sigh, cupping her cheek lovingly.

She smiled and nuzzled his hand. Allowing one hand to stray into the hair on his chest, she murmured shyly, "I feel the same way. I love your name...I know you hate your first name, but...I _love_ it, because it's part of you. I adore your hair and your eyes, and your voice...they have occupied my dreams since you helped me up out of the mud the day we met..."

He smiled lovingly and leaned in to give her lips a feather soft kiss, after which, he gently guided her face back into the curve of his neck, his cheek to hers as they lay there together, totally content in their honeymoon getaway. It was like heaven, lying in one another's arms, listening contentedly to the songs of nature outside their sanctuary...

OOOOOOO

Some time later as he tenderly caressed her arm, he whispered, "Hey...ya hungry?"

She leaned her head back a bit and met his eyes with a twinkle.

"Now that you mention it...yes. I, um..." she paused before confessing, "I didn't eat very much today...nerves I suppose..."

He grinned knowingly and gave the tip of her nose a quick kiss. "Yep. I know. I was watchin' ya."

_Oh my all seeing, all knowing new husband! _ She mused silently, realizing that from this night on, she would probably be unable to keep very much from this man who was now her partner in every way. He was a part of her now...body and soul...and she was finding that a very powerful feeling, one she had never felt or even imagined before.

Sully carefully disengaged himself from her arms and sat up; tossing a few logs on the fire before reaching for the covered basket she had seen earlier. She lay where he left her, her eyes caressing his broad, muscular back down to his waist and the transition between tanned and untanned skin. She reached out with one hand and gently touched him, delighting in his smooth warmth. Her fingers brushed over the now smooth scar where One Eye's blade had sliced his flesh, but she pushed the memory aside and concentrated instead on the here and now, though she sent up a quick prayer of thanks to God that her husband had pulled through...

"Snowbird told me she was gonna leave us somethin' ta snack on...keep our strength up," Sully snickered. His new bride blushed again, but said nothing, merely raised herself up to sit next to him, though she pulled her knees up to her chest in an unconscious attempt at modesty.

"Let's see..." he mumbled as he removed the cloth and peered inside. "Looks like some Cheyenne flatbread...some berries...and a piece of a honeycomb," he announced, even as he was removing a piece of bread. "Want some?"

She nodded shyly and he grinned as he handed her the item. Taking a piece for himself, he laid the basket aside and reached for his canteen that Cloud Dancing had thoughtfully filled. The new lovers sat side-by-side, skin touching skin, as they nibbled on their fare.

Taking a swig of water, Sully offered the canteen to his bride and she took it as he suddenly chuckled with an amusing thought. Before taking a drink, Michaela lowered the container a bit and raised both eyebrows in silent question.

"I was jus' wonderin' if Hank went through with his shivaree or not – and what they did when they found out we weren't even there."

Michaela shuddered as she imagined a dozen rowdy 'visitors' making a cacophony of awful noise outside their door...possibly at just the 'wrong' moment.

"If so, I hope they were sorely disappointed...it would serve them right. I've always thought it a cruel tradition to 'shiveraree' a newlywed couple on their wedding night," she stated firmly, raising the canteen to her lips for a long drink.

He nodded as he took another bite of the bread, musing thoughtfully, "Yeah...I went along on a shivaree once, years ago. They drug the groom out of the house, stripped 'im naked, covered him in honey and feathers, and took 'im about two miles away, blindfolded. In the dark, it took him hours to get home. His wife said later she was scared to death, thinkin' somethin' had happened to 'im when he didn't come back right away."

"Oh Sully," she whispered, amazed at the cruelty 'friends' could enact on each other, all in the name of 'good fun.'

"I decided that night I'd never be a part 'a nothin' like that again," he added quietly, meeting her eyes as they both imagined the same thing happening to _them_, instead of the glorious lovemaking they had experienced, and now sitting together quietly, safe and happy, and head over heels in love. Sully knew they were quite safe, as a matter of fact, because several of his Cheyenne friends were surreptitiously keeping watch at a distance, and Daniel, if he did come, would have to convince Cloud Dancing of the importance of disturbing their privacy.

Michaela smiled softly and leaned against him, nuzzling his bicep and giving it a tiny kiss. "I don't believe I thanked you for my surprise," she whispered, her eyes sparkling inches from his as she thought about how peaceful and quiet their hideaway had proven to be.

He smiled, his eyes roaming her lovely face, thinking he would love and protect her to his last breath. "Nope," he teased, wanting more.

She grinned at his teasing. "I love that you planned all of this, our Cheyenne wedding...and our wonderful wedding night...accommodations," she murmured, glancing around the shadowy confines of their conical room. "Our undisturbed privacy," she added softly. "Thank you, Sully."

"You're welcome," he murmured, eyes aglow.

"I love you so much," she whispered, her heart in her eyes.

He smiled softly and leaned to touch her lips with his, whispering, "Not as much as _I_ love _you_."

She chuckled and nuzzled his nose with hers. "Why do you say that? Do you think I don't love you enough?"

He gazed into her eyes, his taking on a serious expression as he reached for her left hand, raising it and pressing his lips to her fingers – and her wedding band. "It ain't that," he assured. "It's just...no man ever loved a woman as much as I love you. I'd do anything for ya. I'd give my life for you...I'd kill for ya..." he vowed quietly, his eyes shifting back and forth between hers as he searched her emotions, watching as tears again began to water those two-toned eyes that had occupied his dreams from the first moment he gazed into them.

Michaela was speechless, able to see clearly that he meant every word he had just vowed, and wondering what she had ever done to warrant such powerful devotion from this special man she had married.

"Oh Sully..." she whispered, overwhelmed. Then before she could even form some sort of worthy reply, he smiled and leaned to kiss her again, turning back to lift the basket of food. Reaching in, he pulled out a small handful of berries.

"C'mere," he murmured, leaning toward her with a berry and placing it in her mouth, which she obligingly opened. He popped one in his own as he watched her chew.

"Mmm," she complimented, swallowing the sweet fruit.

He grinned at her. "Almost as good as your kisses," he murmured with a wink as he leaned over to avail himself of another one. She giggled and complied, reaching for a berry from the stash in his hand and lifting it to his mouth. He opened and took it inside, his lips covering the tips of her thumb and fingers too, before his teeth clamped on and took the berry. "Mmm," he murmured, echoing her, and then he looked down and chose another one and put it to her lips. She mimicked him, taking in the berry and his fingers, and watching his eyes flash with an emotion she couldn't name – still too innocent to know she had just lit his fire again. Little by little as she had relaxed, she had lowered her legs and now they were tucked to the side, leaving her curves and private parts in plain sight of his hungry gaze.

His eyes bored into hers, and then he reached for the basket blindly, purposely, bringing it near.

"How 'bout some honeycomb?" he murmured, his voice a tad rough. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she was only thinking about food – while he was already ready for another taste of their loving. But, he didn't want to rush her. He wanted this night to be perfect for them both.

"Mmm, I love honeycomb," she sighed, reaching in the basket and carefully breaking off a tiny piece, the rich, thick honey oozing out. She carefully brought it to her open mouth, laying the delectable treat on her tongue as her eyes closed in pleasure. She allowed her tongue to move the thick sweetness around in her mouth, thinking she had never tasted anything so absolutely wonderful.

After a moment, she opened her eyes, intending on feeding her new husband a taste, but the look in his eyes caused her to pause. He was staring at her mouth as if in a trance, his lips parted, his eyes nearly glazed with passion.

Her heart began to pound as she suddenly realized his thoughts – and they weren't on food. As she watched, he brought up a hand and gently grasped hers, his eyes rising to meet her own as he brought her fingers up to his mouth and took them inside, suckling the thick, sweet nectar. She could feel his tongue swirling over their surface and desire rushed from her fingertips to her core, robbing her of the ability to breathe.

Mesmerized, she watched him slowly remove her fingers from his mouth, and use her hand to pull her inexorably closer, tilting his head, all in slow motion, until their lips met – and fused, each tasting nature's sweetest bounty on their lover's tongue.

Suddenly, she felt him begin to lower her backward toward the furs. She felt her bare back touch the soft surface. She felt his strong hands gently grasp her wrists, pulling them up and back, over her head, where he pinned them to the firm softness even as he moved to position himself between her thighs, their kiss becoming more passionate by the second.

He began his entry, striving to remain gentle, and take it slow.

Then he paused, pulling back with effort, panting breathlessly as he remembered the promise he had made to her, and to himself. "If you're sore...if it hurts ya...and you want me to stop...just tell me," he whispered, releasing her hands as he pressed his hips forward slowly.

Her eyes sparkled with wonder. There was no pain, no discomfort. All she felt was desire and passion – and love for her wonderful husband. With a smile, she reached up and wound her fingers in the waves of his hair, pulling his head back to hers and intercepting his mouth with her own in a bold kiss that sent his passion level through the roof. With a growl, he pushed forward the rest of the way.

Each gasped in pleasure as they began their lovemaking for the second time; somehow knowing no two people would ever have a more perfect, or more beautiful wedding night.

_...and there's more..._


	63. Chapter 63

CHAPTER 63

Marjorie slipped out the door of the room she was sharing with her sister, casting a longing gaze down the hall toward Daniel's room, before turning to head toward the stairs. Deep in thought about all that had happened the day before – her youngest sister's wedding...and the man she truly thought of as the 'best' man, all decked out in his wedding finery...and the question he had asked her in the carriage. He had taken her quite off guard and all she could do at the time was stammer that she needed time to think. The subject, to say the least, frightened her – in light of her previous experience.

She was startled when she ran smack into the object of her thoughts as he rounded the corner.

"Oh pardon me!..." she instantly apologized as he reached out to steady her. She raised her eyes to his, finding them twinkling with mirth.

"'S'ok. Seems like we do this a lot," he added with a chuckle, which caused Marjorie to smile in remembrance of her first day in Colorado Springs – and running into the handsome ex-gold miner in just the same way.

Clearing her throat, she murmured, "Good morning."

"'Mornin'," he returned as he stepped back, dropping his hands from her arms and allowing his eyes to caress her lovely face and the way her auburn hair was arranged so prettily on her head.

Blushing a bit at the perusing he was giving her, she nevertheless took a tentative step toward closer, laying a hand feather soft on his shirt-covered chest. "I...I thought about you all night...and the question you asked..." she admitted softly.

He grinned, his dimples pronounced as he took her hands in his, unconsciously holding his breath. "And...?"

She grinned back, gazing up into his eyes, and hers filled as she was suddenly swept with overflowing joy. "And...my answer is _yes_. Yes, I will marry you, Daniel Simon!"

"Yeeehaaa!" he hollered boisterously, digging in his pocket for the diamond engagement ring she had gently refused the evening before. Slipping it quickly on her finger as she giggled over his silliness, he then leaned over and clamped his arms around her waist, twirling her around and around as they both laughed with glee.

Then he set her on her feet and raised both hands to her face, proceeding to seal their engagement with a kiss that left no doubt of his feelings.

"Marjorie!" a stern voice interrupted their joy, causing them to break apart and spin toward the sound, finding Elizabeth standing in the doorway of her room, hairbrush in hand. "What is the meaning of this?"

Recovering quickly, Marjorie reached to take Daniel's arm in hers and draw him near to her mother.

"Mother, I want you to be the first to know...Daniel has asked me to be his wife...and I've accepted," she beamed, flashing her left hand to allow the ring to sparkle in the morning sunlight streaming in the window at the end of the hall.

The two then waited with baited breath, feeling like teenagers facing a disapproving parent, while the latter seemed to ruminate over the announcement. But then her eyes began to twinkle, as she couldn't maintain her charade any longer. Breaking out in a happy smile, she cooed, "Well, it's about time, I must say. What took you so long to ask her, Daniel?"

The three burst out in laughter as other doors in the hall opened and Rebecca and Dorothy came out and joined in the congratulations, with hugs and kisses abounding between the sisters.

"Oh, I wish Michaela were here to share in your joy," Rebecca commented after hugging her sister tightly.

Marjorie leaned back and met her sister's eyes with a naughty twinkle in her own. "Now Rebecca, I'm sure that our sister would not trade what she is doing right now for all of the tea in China," to which the sisters giggled like schoolgirls.

OOOOOOO

The distant call of a mocking bird roused Sully from a deep sleep and he breathed in quickly, for an instant unsure of his surroundings. Then, the previous twenty-four hours came rushing back – in living color, and sensation, and sound, and scent, and taste...

Grinning happily, he allowed his head to roll a bit to the side, hands reaching...only to encounter an empty space on the furs. His brow furrowed at this development; at his last conscious awareness sometime in the wee hours of the morning, his bride had been very satisfyingly asleep and nestled against his side.

Sitting up, the 'joining' blanket that had been keeping him warm slipped to his waist as he gazed around the lonely lodge. But before he could formulate a plan to go in search of his new wife, the flap of the teepee moved and she appeared, scooting quickly and silently inside and gently guiding the buffalo hide door closed behind her.

When she turned, clutching the red and black poncho tightly around her form, she stopped dead in her tracks to see her new husband gazing at her from their cozy nest across the center fire ring.

She gazed back at him, allowing her eyes to feast on his deliciously mussed hair, and bare, hairy chest. Swallowing, she unconsciously moistened her lips. "Good morning," she murmured throatily.

"Mornin'," he answered back, his voice deep with sleep...and something else. He was staring at her, completely enthralled in how she looked on this morning after their wedding...this morning after they were completely and thoroughly 'joined' as husband and wife. _Does she even know how gorgeous she is? _He wondered. There she stood, hair sensuously wild and spilling over her shoulders and down her back from his hands rifling through it during their night of lovemaking. At that moment, no trace of her elegant coiffure of the previous day was in sight. His blanket poncho teasingly covered most of her creamy skin, only her slender calves peeked out below the blanket, above the white moccasin boots she had donned for her trip to what he figured was her morning business.

Oh, she was a picture – sensuality and innocence all wrapped in one gorgeous package. He unconsciously moistened his lips.

Pushing back the blanket, he gracefully rose to his feet, sauntering across the space to stand before her, totally naked and unashamed. Slowly, his eyes holding hers, he reached out and gently grasped the edges of the poncho that was hiding her beautiful body from his perusal, and she allowed him to spread it open. Speechless, he could only stare at the masterpiece of female anatomy standing before him.

Michaela, naturally, felt herself blushing profusely under his intense scrutiny. As if knowing her thoughts, he whispered, "Don't be shy...we're married...there's nothin' more natural than a husband and wife bein' naked together."

Her lips parted, but no words immerged. She could only nuzzle the loving hand that had moved to caress her cheek.

He grinned lovingly at her sweet gesture, which said more than words ever could. Adjusting the poncho so that it encompassed both of them, he wrapped her in his arms and pressed her body to his, smiling down into her eyes, which were luminous like polished gemstones as she gazed up at him, enraptured. She was thinking his eyes reminded her of transparent sapphires at that moment, as they had darkened with his emotions.

"You're so beautiful...your eyes are sparklin'," he whispered, awed by the sheer delicate loveliness of her face. Angelic, the way she had appeared to him on his vision quest...

She smiled and answered with unabashed honesty, "I'm in love..."

"Indeed," he returned, playfully mimicking her customary reply. "That makes two of us," he added with a husky whisper as he finally succumbed to the pull of her magnetism and lowered his lips to hers...but slowly, gently, as if he were exploring their texture. His arms tightened as he moved against her, their naked bodies touching and brushing one another's, each one highly attuned to the incredible sensations – she of the roughness of his manly body hair brushing against her softness...he of the silken feel of her smooth skin as it rubbed against his own. It was sheer breathless wonder.

She felt as if she were floating on a sea of misty foam, suspended in his arms as if time had paused while the two of them gloried in one another. However, the cold morning air of the Colorado Rockies in spring began to seep in and after a few moments, he felt her shiver slightly. Instantly concerned for her wellbeing, he broke the kiss and murmured, "C'mon..."

Before she could manage a word, he bent and scooped her into his arms, slowly circling the fire pit and stopping next to their still warm pallet. Allowing the blanket to fall by the wayside, he lay her down gently on the furs, pausing for only a moment to rid her of the moccasins, and then settled beside her, raising their joining blanket and enveloping them both in a cozy cocoon. Feeling much like an Indian princess with her warrior husband, she settled against his chest in the circle of his arms and sighed, relishing the delicious, now familiar warmth of his muscular body intimately entwined with hers.

She shivered a bit as her body acclimated itself. "Thank you...I did get rather chilled...it's quite cool up here in the mornings..." she murmured against his neck.

"Yeah," he answered, busying himself with rubbing her limbs with his warm hands. "We'll getcha warm and then we'll see about eatin' some breakfast. Then I guess we should probably get dressed and take the wagon to the homestead." She nodded, but was somewhat let down that their honeymoon getaway was only for one night.

"Yours hands are like ice," he murmured, placing them against the heat of his belly to speed their recuperation.

"Cold water," she explained, meaning the stream she had found a dozen yards from their conical abode. She blushed for a moment, remembering when she discovered and washed away the dried crimson traces of her innocence as she pictured in vivid detail the circumstances of their origin.

He seemed to read her thoughts as he tightened his arms around her. A bit ashamed that his ardor had been insatiable the night before, he pressed his lips to her hair, whispering, "I hadn't planned on puttin' ya through it three times last night...you okay?"

She leaned back from him enough to gaze at him in the dim morning light. The expression in those blue eyes would, just the day before, have made her blush crimson. So _knowing..._so _intimate..._as if he had been watching her at the stream...as if he were reliving the moment when he_.._.

But now, she smiled into his eyes as she answered softly, "I'm wonderful. I'm your _wife_...in every way." Then boldly, raising one eyebrow in that cute, sassy way that always made him want to grab her and kiss her, she added, "It's about time I became a woman, don't you think?"

He tipped his head back and laughed in pure joy of this amazing woman he had married. She never failed to surprise him.

"You been a 'woman' for a long time...jus' not a 'wife'. I'm glad I was the one to make that happen," he added sensually. Raising a hand to softly cup her cheek, he whispered, "I love that nobody else can have ya. You're _mine_..._all mine_." He leaned in and softly touched her lips with his, relishing her now familiar taste, and grinned when she whispered back, "And _you_ are _mine_...forever."

Then with a wry smile, she teased, "Unless I decide to toss your belongings out the front door."

They chuckled together as their lips met again, and fused. All thoughts of breakfast or the homestead forgotten as they once again indulged in what had quickly become their favorite activity.

OOOOOOO

The new lovers lay spent and sated together a little later, each one reluctant to be the first to move out of their gloriously comfortable nest.

Staring up at the blanket propped overhead, reminding him of a 'lean-to' he had slept in once on a hunting party, Sully sighed contentedly as he softly stroked his bride's arm, lying intimately across his belly. Picturing her as she had been twenty minutes before, arching under him as wave after wave of ecstasy exploded between them, her hair strewn wildly on the furs, he smiled softly, and whispered, "I love you so much."

She smiled lazily against his chest as she enjoyed the gentle caress of his warm hand on her arm. "I love you, too," she whispered, her soft breath fanning the hair in the area above his manly nipples.

Though her body was arrayed as intimately close upon his as possible, he affectionately tightened his grip, unconsciously pulling her even closer against him, wishing he could stay 'one' with her constantly and forever. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips lovingly to her forehead as he felt her fingers gently thread through his chest hair and grip his skin. "We've only been married less than a day and already I wonder how I've lived all these years without ya," he whispered seriously.

Her eyes opened as she traced the line of his jaw with a finger. "Indeed...has it really not even been twenty four hours since the Reverend pronounced us man and wife?"

He grinned, "And even less since Black Kettle blessed our union and we kissed under our 'joinin' blanket."

She tilted her head back, eying him lovingly. "How _did_ we ever live before our paths crossed and we met?" she asked softly.

He shook his head, lifting a hand to smooth a strand of hair from her cheek. "For me, it weren't really livin'...just existin'...gettin' through each day one at a time and waitin' for the day I'd be sent on an assignment I wouldn't come back from..."

Her eyes misted as she thought about the assignments she knew about when they were together at the fort. She reached up and softly touched a finger to the scar on his neck, thinking he was right...one day he wouldn't have come back from just such an assignment. The thought made her shudder. "And I...resigning myself to marry a man I didn't really love just to please my family... and stubbornly insisting on joining him at a far remote military outpost...not knowing such a love as ours even existed – out there, somewhere..."

Sully grinned again and leaned to give her lips a sweet kiss, wrinkling his nose at her playfully. "I'm glad you've got that stubbornness, it's somethin' I love about ya."

She raised an eyebrow at him teasingly. "It will surely keep you guessing."

He tilted back his head and laughed out loud, thinking there had never been a more perfect combination of woman ever born – beautiful, intelligent, innocent, and sensual all wrapped into one exquisite package. He gazed back down at his prize again, knowing he was the luckiest man in the world.

"Well...guess we oughta eat somethin' and then start gettin' ready to go home..." he murmured, though hoping against hope that she would want to continue their stay. Expecting her to agree and move to comply, his brow furrowed at her silence and lack of motion. He pulled back a bit to look into her eyes, which were twinkling with mischief.

Drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, she dropped her eyes from his and concentrated on watching her fingers caress his skin. He waited, unconsciously holding his breath.

"I, um..." she began, flicking a quick look into his eyes and then away. "I hate to waste all of your preparations on just one night..."

"Yeah?" he encouraged softly.

"What would you think of...staying here for a few days? I mean...its rather nice knowing no one could just drop in on us...and we have complete privacy," she paused, blushing a little at his grin. "But, well...I suppose we would need to eat...and bathe..."

His heart sped up a bit, unbelievably happy that she had put forth the idea on her own.

"We could fish...and there's a waterfall with a small pool not far from here...and..." he paused, causing her to meet his eyes again, seeing nothing but deliriously happy love within their blue depths. "And...I kind of arranged somethin' with Snowbird...she said she'd be happy ta bring us out somethin' to eat, if we let her know we wanna stay here..."

Michaela grinned and nodded acquiescence, the idea of several days totally alone with each other thrilling her heart as nothing else. He happily folded her into his arms again and they spent the next little while lazily enjoying some very delicious kisses and caresses, continuing their journey of exploration.

OOOOOOOO

Later that afternoon, the enamored couple slowly made their way through the trees, riding double on Sully's horse. Michaela felt as if she were floating in a breathtaking dream, one from which she never wanted to awaken. To be with her husband, miles from another living soul, and share with him such private intimacy...it was infinitely more than she had ever hoped or imagined.

Now, nestled within his protective arms as the horse plodded along, she reveled in the warmth of his bare chest against her back through the soft material of the Indian dress – the same one Snowbird had leant to her the night of the big storm...the night Sully had proposed. He was also wearing what he had worn that night, the somewhat revealing leggings and loincloth he had borrowed from Cloud Dancing. Her mouth stretched into a tiny, mischievous smile, thinking she no longer had to wonder and try to imagine what treasure lay hidden beneath the brightly colored cloth. In less than twenty-four hours, she already knew her husband's body quite well...

Releasing a soft sigh, she luxuriated in his embrace. Positioned in front of him, both of his arms were wrapped securely around her, one hand distractedly holding the reins, while the other intimately pressed and caressed her lower belly. The thought went through her mind that he might be wondering if he had already successfully planted a baby therein...

Hoping that were the case, she turned her head enough to press her lips to his cheek as she nuzzled his face, which was slightly prickly with morning stubble. He turned as well and joined his lips to hers in a soft, sensuous, and completely satisfying kiss.

Minutes later, realizing the horse had stopped, Michaela dreamily disengaged her lips from his and opened her eyes to find one of the most beautifully serene sights she had ever encountered.

"Oh Sully...its lovely here," she murmured as her eyes beheld the gorgeous display nature and water had created.

He smiled with pleasure and effortlessly slid off the horse's back, then lifted his arms to catch her as she gracefully swung a leg over and glided down into his waiting embrace. Standing together, the merry sound of the water splashing from a ten foot height into a small, clear pond, she couldn't help but marvel – it seemed tailor-made for an outdoor bathing pool. She looked around, however, wondering what they would do if someone were to come upon them unawares.

He saw her expression and leaned to give her a quick kiss. "Don't worry. Cloud Dancin' ain't gonna let nobody bother us," he assured with a grin. At her look of surprise, he added, "While you were dressin' and I went outside, I told him about our plans."

She thought for a moment and realized she had, indeed, heard the familiar 'mourning dove' call from right outside their honeymoon abode, and the equally familiar twilling call from somewhere off to the right. Feeling more secure, but still a bit shy, she nodded and looked around again, then turned her eyes and met his. Once again, he read her thoughts.

"Nobody's gonna see...nobody, but _me_," he added huskily, sending her a risqué grin as he stepped back and reached to untie the lacings at his waist, unceremoniously allowing the leggings to drop to the grass. With a twinkle in his eyes, his hand untied the lacing holding the loincloths in place, and they quickly fluttered to the ground. Then he was standing there, bold as brass, bare naked, and not seeming shy or uncomfortable in the least. Michaela wished she were equally comfortable in nothing but her skin.

He wiggled his eyebrows. "Well?"

"Um...I'll undress over by the pond," she murmured, blushing as she heard him chuckle as she made her way over. He reached up to the saddle and untied the bundle he had retrieved from the wagon before following his wife to the water's edge.

She looked around surreptitiously as she reached down, grasped the bottom of the dress, and tugged it over her head, quickly thrusting it shyly against her front.

Sully grinned at her teasingly as he spread the poncho on the ground, along with a washcloth, towel, bar of soap, his razor kit, and the bottle of Michaela's shampoo. He had thought long and hard about their wedding night and honeymoon, and had come prepared to stay longer at the teepee if his wife had been agreeable to the idea – which happily she had been. Charlotte had been his very willing accomplice in securing the needed items.

Turning, he spied his beloved already submerged neck deep in the water, her eyes lovingly and even a touch sensually, caressing his form. Boldly, he stepped to the edge of the pond, his eyes locked with hers, and carefully lowered himself into the cool water. He waded over to her, took her in his arms for a wet kiss, and then for the next little while, the newlyweds enjoyed playing and splashing, washing one another, and helping each other wash their hair. How wonderful and even sensual that felt, to have their hands in the other's lather-filled locks, luxuriously massaging one another's scalp with their fingertips. Sully finished off this last task by gently grasping his wife's arms and hauling her over underneath the downpour of the waterfall, each one squawking and giggling from the cold water and the shear fun of their private adventure.

Once they were soap and shampoo free, Sully pulled his wife against his chest, his eyes intense as the downpour pelted his back, his mouth covering hers in a hot, wet, provocatively sensuous kiss. Her shyness much abated by then, Michaela immediately melted into him, returning his attentions with breathless passion.

Soon two pairs of hands were groping, caressing, squeezing...until Sully, with a low growl, reached down in the water and lifted Michaela in his arms.

"Wrap your legs around me," he whispered in her ear, gently nipping its lobe, his lips moving slowly down her neck.

"Sully...here?" she gasped softly, even as she complied, automatically obeying his gentle command.

His hands sensually and knowingly caressed her ribs and thighs as his wild kisses spread across her delicate throat, the roughness of his whiskers only seemed to further ignite Michaela's already heightened senses. "Yeah, right here, right now," he rasped as he planted his feet firmly on the bottom of their private pond and slipped one hand between their bodies, making quick work of their joining.

"Aaahhh," Michaela moaned, as exquisite pleasure seemed to shoot to every nerve ending in her body. Her head fell back, her hands grasping his shoulders, her hips automatically matching his rhythm. His hands slid to grasp the smooth skin of her bottom, aiding in the force of his thrusts.

Unable to speak, her eyes closed tightly, Michaela's fingers slid into her husband's wet locks as her lips blindly found and melded with his. Their moans of ecstasy slowly grew in volume, rising above the noise of the water tumbling into the pool behind them, until their lovemaking culminated in final, intense, simultaneous shouts of rapture.

oooooo

_More to come!_ :)


	64. Chapter 64

CHAPTER 64

The newlyweds lay entwined together on Sully's poncho, still recovering from their intense lovemaking in their private pond. Water droplets beaded on their skin glittered in the mottled light of the sun filtering through the trees.

Unbeknownst to the sated and languorous couple, a pair of mysterious eyes watched their movements. Then slowly began to move toward their location, feet silent on the smooth rocks leading to their pond.

Nearly asleep, his guard down and completely at ease in their private sanctuary, Sully's senses suddenly jerked to attention at the touch of something unexpected against the side of his head – the snuffling of a muzzle, accompanied by a low growl. With the splashing of the water into the pool, he had not heard the rustle of anything approaching that could do them harm. His pleasure sodden brain immediately registered the hot breath of an animal directly above him.

_BEAR!_

His eyes snapped open, and with the lightning fast reflexes of his army training, his hands instantly grasped his wife by her arms and hauled her up, thrusting her protectively behind his body, ready to defend her with his life if need be, and silently berating himself for his carelessness.

"Sully! What is it?" Michaela squealed, having been on the cusp of sleep herself before being so rudely and unexpectedly awakened.

The cause of their sudden fright sat back on its haunches, pink tongue slipping out as it panted and calmly gazed back into his master's eyes.

"Wolf!" Sully gasped, both glad and angry to see his faithful companion. "You 'bout scared me half to death! What're ya doin' here?" he asked the animal, glancing around in search of his brother as he quickly handed Michaela her dress. "Where's Cloud Dancin', boy?" he asked as he tied on the loincloths he had dropped earlier and stood to his feet. Michaela quickly slipped the buckskin dress over her head, hoping fiercely that her husband's Indian brother was not close enough to view her embarrassment.

Just then, they both heard a whistle about one hundred yards into the forest, Wolf's ears instantly responding. The furry canine turned his head, his keen eyes watching as Cloud Dancing emerged from the thick brush. Gazing across the clearing, he raised one hand in an apologetic wave and called an order to the errant malamute.

"Go on, get outta here," the dog's master grunted as he waved back at his friend. With a soft bark, as if in adieu, Wolf sprang to his feet and raced across the space back to the man charged with his care. As the animal joined him, the amused Indian waved a hand once again and the two disappeared into the tree line.

"What was _that_ all about?" Michaela murmured, smoothing her still wet hair back from her flushed face.

Sully glanced down at her and grinned, loving the picture she made sitting there on the blanket in the buckskin dress, bare legs tucked around, her hands nervously fidgeting with the long, mussed strands of her hair.

"Don' know," he shrugged and glanced back to where his friend had disappeared. "I guess Wolf missed us."

"Apparently."

Sully chuckled and reached a hand down to grasp hers and help her to her feet.

"Well, c'mon. Let's pack up and get back to the teepee. I'm hungry."

"For food?" Michaela asked coquettishly, one eyebrow raised in an intentional flirt.

Sully's eyes flared in reaction to such unexpected behavior from his normally reserved wife, but he grinned again and raised a hand to gently cup her cheek, directing her chin forward as he met her lips with his.

"Yep," he answered as he leaned back, adding with a wiggle of his eyebrows, "For now." Searching her sparkling eyes, he threatened, though his grin belied his tone, "But ya keep givin' me that _look_...might just have dessert first."

"Ah ah, no threats, or I'll be forced to toss your belongings out the door of our teepee," she reciprocated with a sassy matching grin and turned to help him gather their things, yelping softly when she felt a possessive but gentle swat on her bottom. Whirling in surprise, she grinned again and giggled in response to her husband's roguish wink, for the first time understanding the male/female dynamics in play the occasions she had witnessed Hank doing so to one of his 'girls'.

The thought left her feeling quite risqué.

OOOOOOOO

Looking at the couple sitting together quietly, one couldn't guess the shenanigans in which they had participated on their way back to their honeymoon abode.

In the midst of a kiss as they rode together on Sully's horse, they both heard the unmistakable gobble of a wild turkey. Breaking apart instantly, each glanced around as Sully brought the horse to a halt.

"I think it came from over there," Michaela whispered, pointing to an area on the left past some thick brush and trees.

"Yeah...but I ain't got my bow," Sully whispered back, aggravated at himself that he hadn't thought ahead to bring it, if nothing else for added protection.

"Perhaps we won't need it...I've watched Charlotte catch chickens out behind the boarding house before...this shouldn't be much different," she returned with brash confidence, suddenly disengaging herself from his arms and slipping from the horse before he could stop her.

"Michaela wait!" he hissed, immediately sliding off the mount and reaching to grab her arm, but she was already moving too quickly toward the sound as their now intended prey let out another unsuspecting gobble.

"Come on, Sully! It's just over there!" she whispered with something of childlike glee, too caught up in the spirit of the chase to heed his caution.

"This ain't a good idea...wild turkeys can be mean," he warned ominously as he followed his unusually animated wife, forcing himself to concentrate on the task and not how fetching she looked in that buckskin dress.

As they moved closer, Michaela pressed her finger to her lips and then motioned for him to go around to the left while she would go around to the right. He shook his head, silently attempting to persuade her to give up the lark, but she ignored him, moving on around to get into position. His head dropped back with a sigh of frustration and he rolled his eyes, but lifted his hands for a second in surrender before reluctantly heeding her instructions.

Circling the clearing, they spied the rather large bird happily pecking the ground for morsels to eat. Sully focused on his wife as she silently counted, "One...two...three," with him bobbing his head in agreement. Then she squealed, "Now!" and charged out from behind the bush as he did the same. The turkey, of course greatly alarmed, sought its escape at once.

The hapless honeymooners did their best to corral the animal, with shouts of, "Sully get it!"... "It's over there!"... "Come here, come here!"... "I almost..." ... "I got it..." ... "Oh no, oh!" Though with nothing in their hands to help with the herding, not even a stray tree branch, their quarry soon eluded them as they quite clumsily crashed into one another and ended up in a heap on the ground. Their would-be dinner went its way with a furious flapping of its feathers and some not so quiet, panicked gobbling, quite relieved to have escaped with its life from the two crazy humans.

The two lay sprawled together, out of breath and giggling at their own silliness.

"How 'bout we go fishin'?" Sully suggested with a dimpled grin as Michaela looked up at him from her haphazard position and let out an amused, "Ah!" chuckling as she agreed to what sounded like a much more reliable means to secure nourishment.

With another chuckle, Sully climbed to his feet and reached down with both hands, gently hauling his wife upright. Wrapping their arms around one another and laughingly picking stray leaves and brush from each other's hair and clothing, they made their way back to Sully's horse, who had stood unconcerned the entire time happily munching on a stand of grass.

An hour later, the newlyweds sat side by side on a fallen log next to the peaceful creek near their teepee.

The fishing spot Sully had selected was lovely, and so private, with a solid cover of trees and brush surrounding them on all four sides. The water barely made a sound it was moving so slowly, the stillness only disturbed by the occasional call of a bullfrog.

Michaela sat up, stretching her back and brushing an errant strand of hair from her face with the back of one hand.

"Don't we have enough?"

"You wanna learn to fish, you gotta dig for worms," he told her straight-faced, though having difficulty not grinning at her clumsy attempts as she huffed softly in frustration and once again took up her tool of choice – his tomahawk – and continued digging. Gazing down into the hole she had made, she grinned triumphantly.

"Hah! Here's one," she chirped, reaching in and drawing out the tiny wiggling, dirt-covered creature. With a grimace, she deposited it into his hand.

He took one look at it and teased with a smirk, "Half worms don't count."

She shot him a look. "Why not."

He gave her a smug glance as he dropped her 'half worm' back to the dirt at their feet, quipping softly, "Fishin' rules." She rolled her eyes and then proceeded to explain to him that worms were 'hermaphrodites' and contained both male and female 'parts', reproducing themselves by themselves. Unimpressed, he responded with a twinkle, "Don't sound like much fun."

"Well, it's very efficient, from a scientific point of view," she defended, though her own eyes were sparkling as she agreed with him, it certainly didn't sound like much fun at all, compared to the 'fun' the two of them had been having together. She felt her body begin to tingle with the awareness of his nearness again as she visualized their most recent 'fun' at the pond.

He finished securing a worm to her line's hook and tossed the sinker in the water, murmuring, "You can fish over there by that rock." She nodded and took hold of the pole.

Stretching his legs out to get comfortable, he tossed his own line in the water.

"There's an old Indian legend says that man and woman were once united...four arms, four legs, two backs...and one day the Great Spirit grew angry at this creature and took his tomahawk and cut 'em apart. And ever since that day, men and women have tried to get back together again, whenever they can," he added softly, his eyes roaming down her body as he pictured their own times of 'getting together'.

His eyes rose and met hers and they both grinned, each thinking the same thing. _I'm so glad men and women aren't housed in the same body – the act of 'getting together' is so much...fun!_

Clearing her throat and wishing they were inside their teepee at that moment – the memory of almost being 'caught' by Cloud Dancing earlier keeping her from launching herself into his arms, she asked offhandedly, "How long will this take? I'm feeling quite hungry," and blushed as he grinned at her again.

"Not long...unless you make a lot 'a noise and scare the fish away."

Their eyes met again and, though embarrassed, Michaela held his gaze as they both remembered how she had responded quite verbally to his lovemaking earlier in the day. Indeed, the fish would have vacated the entire area in alarm.

Pursing her lips for a moment, she murmured audaciously, "In that case, I'd say you could do with a bit of that advice yourself..." and was rewarded for her boldness with the pleasure of seeing her husband nearly blush as the memory of himself shouting in ecstasy earlier in their private pond came to mind.

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her playfully, greatly enjoying their teasing. "I have more control," he murmured softly.

She raised one eyebrow. "_Do_ ya now?" she teased back in a good imitation of his dialect.

The lovers stared into one another's eyes, feeling their undeniable attraction igniting the air around them. Irresistibly drawn, Sully leaned slowly closer until his lips were a millimeter from touching hers, their eyes now trained on one another's mouths.

"Yep," he whispered before surrendering to her magnetism, his lips touching, then melding with hers.

Fishing poles forgotten on their laps, their hands came up and slid into one another's hair as the kiss deepened. Oh, how could the simple fusing of two sets of lips be so...so...intoxicating! Each knew they would never, ever tire of the very pleasurable pastime of kissing – no matter if they were married fifty years.

Their ardor continuing to increase to almost fever pitch, neither one at first noticed both of their lines twitching in the water until a rather large fish on Sully's line literally yanked the pole off his lap.

They broke apart in surprise, and then giggled together as Sully scrambled for the flailing pole.

"Grab that net," he instructed, wrestling with the five-pound trout that seemed determined not to be caught. Michaela reached to fetch the item for him, and together they wrangled the rainbow colored fish into the net, after which they both plopped down side by side onto the log.

Wiping splashed water from his face with the back of his hand, he glanced at his delectable wife and grinned as he leaned to give her a quick smack on the lips.

"First we eat this feisty critter, and then I want to get back to that conversation he interrupted," he declared with a twinkle.

Chuckling happily, they took their prize back to their honeymoon 'cottage'.

OOOOOOO

Acutely aware of one another's proximity, the newlyweds went about the business of making dinner. Sully gutted and cleaned the large fish, while Michaela built up the center fire and readied pans and utensils.

Longing to try her hand at making a batch of Snowbird's Cheyenne flatbread the way her friend had painstakingly shown her on more than one occasion, she managed to fry up several of the items, which resembled large, albeit slightly misshapen pancakes.

Meanwhile, Sully assumed the duty of grilling their catch, and soon had their abode filled with the delicious aroma of seasoned trout.

In truth, both parties were finding it quite hard to concentrate, as each one succeeded in catching the other in surreptitious glances across the small space, resulting in loving smiles and flashing eyes. Only true hunger for nourishment kept them from falling into one another's arms on more than one occasion.

Then finally, the meal was complete, and the two settled down at the edge of their bed of furs to enjoy their tasty feast.

"Mmm, you did a good job on the flatbread. Taste's almost as good as Snowbird's," Sully complimented sincerely as he took a healthy bite.

"Thank you," she murmured as she sampled some herself. "I'll not tell you how many batches I ruined when she was teaching me."

He grinned and took out his knife, easily slicing into the perfectly cooked fish. "Let's see how _I_ did, here..." he murmured, separating a bit and raising it to his lips to blow it for several seconds before touching his tongue to the morsel.

"Not bad," he mumbled, slipping that bite into his mouth and reaching for another. Blowing on that as well, he offered the piece to his bride.

"Mmm, oh Sully, this is marvelous," she responded, politely raising her fingers to her mouth as she chewed.

"Thank you," he answered proudly, and the two spent the next few minutes indulging in their feast, occasionally feeding one another, and talking in low tones as only lovers can...about nothing...about many things...

OOOOOOO

Sully took another pinch of scrumptiously grilled trout between his finger and thumb and held it teasingly above his wife's open mouth as she reclined on her side facing him, grinning as she stretched her neck to retrieve it.

"Mmmm," Michaela sighed as she chewed, swallowing the bite and cooing, "This trout is simply divine. The best I've ever tasted. What seasonings did you use?" she asked, reaching for a finger-full to feed her husband.

He opened his mouth and allowed her to drop the morsel in, quickly chewing before answering with a shrug, "Just some herbs Snowbird showed me."

"Everything is so delicious...but I seem to be repeating myself," she added with a giggle as she took another bite from her husband's loving hand. Gently grasping it to softly lick the tasty juice from his fingers – her eyes averted – she missed the telltale spark instantly ignited in the depths of his.

"Yeah...maybe because your senses have been woke up...makin' everythin' you feel and taste seem that much better..." Sully astutely commented, smiling softly as he watched his bride's face turn a soft shade of pink as she realized his meaning. His kisses, his caresses...his lovemaking... had awakened her senses in every possible way. And it was true, everything around her seemed supercharged with beauty now - the sky, the land, their honeymoon teepee...their magical waterfall...her gorgeous husband...

She swallowed the bite and gazed into his eyes, just then realizing the change in his demeanor as it dawned on her that he was once again aroused, though in her naiveté, she didn't realize it was her action of licking his fingers that had sparked the kindling.

"And what about you...are your senses awakened?" she murmured softly.

His lips slowly formed a sensual smile as his eyes left her face and roamed down her body, thinking he would have to quickly remedy the fact that she was still wearing the buckskin dress.

"Dr. Mike, you have no idea," he teased softly, using her nickname for the first time in many months. "Sometimes I wonder if a man can die of pleasure," he added, his eyes once again boring into hers.

"I've wondered that about myself," she answered without thinking.

Suddenly, the heat in his gaze made her feel flustered, and she quickly looked around, asking offhandedly, "Have you had enough dinner? Are you still... hungry?" she faltered, realizing what she had said and guessing how he would respond. She was right.

He grinned and began to lean close. "Yep...but not for food," he murmured as his lips touched hers, once, twice, and then deeply, each one tasting the flavor of the herbed trout on their lover's tongue. It was like enjoying the meal a second time...

Impatient to feel his wife's soft skin, Sully moved the plate of food out of the way, his hands blindly roaming down her body to the fringe on her dress, grasping it and tugging upward. They paused as he slipped it over her head and tossed it to the side.

Not quite as shy as she was on their wedding night, she was still too timid to return the gesture, and merely waited while her husband quickly shed his leggings and loincloth.

Then before she could move or react, Sully reached out to grasp her around the waist and deposit her into the area between his legs, facing him, her legs automatically circling his bottom. He wound his arms around her, pulling her body flush with his.

"Now, where were we 'fore that big ol' fish interrupted our conversation," he teased, softly rubbing her nose with his.

"As I recall...we were talking about loud noises..." she murmured, catching her lip between her teeth as she met his twinkling eyes.

"Mmm," he nodded. "And now we don't have ta worry about scarin' the fish."

"Nope," she teased as he closed in for a kiss, which soon escalated into full-blown passion as all talking and teasing ceased.

Hands caressed, lips and tongues worshipped, and bodies undulated in unspoken invitation until Sully could wait no longer, and finally lifted his bride slightly and eased her down in full joining of their bodies, resulting in a harmony of aahhh's and sighs.

The passion mounted and rose to the level of the stars as they once again united in the act that had awakened every nerve and sense in their beings.

Their bond was once again fused. Soul mates forever.

Ooooo

_One final chapter left!_


	65. Chapter 65

CHAPTER 65

The wagon jostled slowly along the dirt road as the two occupants snuggled together on the bench seat. The man distractedly held the reins in one hand, while his other was busy squeezing his wife against his side.

"I can't believe the week is already over," Michaela sighed softly. "It seems like we only married a day or two ago...where did the time go?" she asked her agreeing husband as he again pressed her into his side and turned his head to brush his lips against her temple.

"Like they say...time flies when you're havin' fun," he murmured with a tiny snicker as she met his eyes, each thinking of exactly the same type of fun.

"Indeed," she agreed with a tiny grin. "We have to return to our daily lives tomorrow..." she mused, only slightly wondering if there had been any medical emergencies while they were gone. She wondered how Charlotte and the children were...and Marjorie and Daniel. At that last thought, she wondered if there had been any change in their relationship... "You will have to return to supervising the building of Daniel's house..."

"Mmm hmm...but I get to come home each night to my new wife. No more sleepin' alone in that cabin while you're sleepin' in town," he reminded her, lifting her spirits as she agreed with him.

For the next little while, the two traveled in silence, each reliving parts of their idyllic honeymoon week at their secluded teepee. Days and nights had drifted along like a leaf on the surface of a slow moving creek, totally relaxed and blissfully happy. They were well acquainted lovers now, having spent long hours lying in one another's arms and learning each other's likes and dislikes. They had talked endlessly about their childhood and early years, divulging things they had not gone into before on their talks as friends. They had 'kept house' together in their tiny abode, and even such mundane tasks as cooking or cleaning up seemed quite enjoyable when performed together. They visited their bathing pond two more times, though Michaela had insisted Sully take the blankets and rig them some privacy _just in case_. And their friend and guardian, Cloud Dancing, had visited them several times to bring provisions, Snowbird even coming with him once.

On that visit, the two ladies had taken a short walk together as the men had talked. Once out of earshot, the Cheyenne woman had turned to her friend and looked her square in the eye.

"Well?" she asked bluntly, knowing her friend would know her meaning.

Michaela did, and she blushed slightly as Snowbird's intelligent dark eyes assessed the pink cheeks of her friend.

"You were right, Snowbird...and I took your advice...about everything," she added softly, turning her head to look over her shoulder at her handsome husband as he turned at that moment to look at her. Their eyes met, and each one knew the other was talking about them. They looked away, grinning.

"That one," Snowbird motioned with her head toward Sully, "he is crazy for you. I do not think you will ever need to toss his belongings out of your lodge. He will work hard to keep you happy," Michaela's grinning friend bluntly predicted. "Just as Cloud Dancing does for me," she confided with a smirk, causing both females to erupt in giggles.

Their men looked over at them again, sensing they were the topic of female conversation.

"Dr. Mike seems happy," Cloud Dancing stated, then turned his eyes to his brother. "As do you. There is a new light in your eyes. The marriage is good?"

Sully flashed him a grin and waggled his eyebrows. "You bet." Then more seriously, he added, "I've never been so happy in my life, Cloud Dancin'...I'm married to an angel...and I'm lovin' every minute of it."

"I can see this, and I am happy for you, my brother," the Medicine Man answered, watching his friend turn again and look longingly at his bride. "Enjoy this time with your bride. Dark clouds come to every household sooner or later, but I will ask the spirits to keep them from your abode for many moons."

Sully nodded his thanks, but his mind was quite occupied with the fetching woman in the light colored buckskin dress standing far enough away to make him ache for her nearness. He grinned fondly as he watched her giggle at something Snowbird whispered, placing her hand over her mouth in that cute ladylike way that always made his eyes twinkle with love.

Watching the two repeatedly cast longing looks at one another, and sensing they had stayed to the end of their welcome, the Indian shook his head with a grin and tipped his head back, calling, "Ho'eohe Pâhávêhá'e! Tónêstôheohtsé." [Come woman! We go now.]

Snowbird sent him a look and turned to her friend again, leaning for a quick hug. "I will see you later. Enjoy your man," she added with a whisper.

"Thank you, Snowbird...for everything," Michaela whispered back and the two exchanged fond grins before moving with chuckles to rejoin their husbands. Michaela reached Sully's side, wrapping her arms around his waist as he did hers, and the two watched their friends disappear into the trees heading back toward their village.

Turning to one another with loving smiles, they had retreated back into their private abode to continue _enjoying_ each other.

Michaela came out of her musings to see that they were turning into the entrance road to Sully's homestead. _Correction...our homestead_, she reminded herself.

He pulled the wagon to a stop and hopped down, immediately reaching up to assist her. She sat still for a minute, gazing at the beautiful window in the front door, the new porch rail he had installed, and the two-seater bench on the porch. Extending her hands, she allowed him to lift her down, turning to walk toward the side of the house.

"There's so much to do...I must get a garden in..." she began, only to let out a squeak as Sully scooped her up in his arms.

"Sully, what are you doing!"

"First things first. Gotta carry you over the threshold," he answered, mounting the porch steps.

"But...we've been here before."

"This time it's for real," he stated, fumbling with the door latch, relieved when it finally swung open. He turned sideways and maneuvered his precious burden through the doorway, stopping just inside to press a warm, slow kiss to her lips as his right hand hugged her shoulder close. When he ended the kiss, she grinned happily into his face and pressed another quick kiss to his lips.

Then, a mischievous smirk infusing his countenance, Sully put her down and just watched her expression, waiting for her reaction.

Confused, she stared at him for a moment, and then slowly turned her head to take in the room...and the transformation! "Oh Sully..." she murmured just as her eyes encountered the biggest change of all.

"Surprise," he whispered against her ear. "It's your other weddin' present."

Tears sprang to Michaela's eyes as she took a step toward the corner of the now larger main room – and the massive object against one wall. "How...how did you do this? I was here just weeks ago..."

Sully, extremely pleased with her reaction, felt himself puffing up with manly pride.

"The last two times you were here, I had stuff standin' in the way so you couldn't see, and I kept ya occupied in the kitchen," he reminded her, adding, "I worked on _that_ in the barn."

Now, she moved toward the left side of the room, taking in how Sully had expanded the main room, pushing the outer wall back even with the original bump out, making the entire room seem twice the size. But the main attraction was the amazingly immense four-poster bed.

She moved closer, touching her fingers to one of its substantial end posts, as she stared transfixed at the towering headboard, and its carved design.

"It's a medicine wheel...dream catcher," he explained. "The Cheyenne believe that if you put a dream catcher above your bed, it will catch nightmares, and only let the good dreams come through."

The bed was elegant and rugged at the same time. Sully had carved five feathers curving upward from and around a center wheel. The headboard stood almost seven feet tall, and was stained and polished to a rich shine. Two large posts anchored the curved top of the headboard, with two smaller posts at the foot.

He had positioned the bed against the new outer wall, with matching nightstands, each with lamps. Identical lanterns adorned the wall on either side. The window that had been in that wall he had transferred to the original bump out, next to which stood a new chest of drawers, empty and waiting to be filled with Michaela's things. The wall to the right of the bed now held a large armoire, handmade by Sully, and big enough to hold some of her fancier dresses. Every wall was clean and whitewashed, so different from the first time she had seen the cabin after he had gone on his quest.

She turned to him, tears of joy hovering in her lashes. "Sully...everything is so beautiful...I can't...I..." she stammered, grateful when her perceptive husband took pity on her lack of coherent words and took her in his arms for a warm hug.

"I'm glad ya like it," he murmured. "I been dyin' to show it all to ya," he added as they stood in one another's warm embrace. Michaela felt as if her heart would burst from sheer happiness as she snuggled in his arms. Finally he pulled back and gave her lips a quick kiss before taking her hand and tugging her over to see his other improvements.

The dining table he had situated along the front window. Two white wingback chairs sat, with a small table between, facing the scrubbed fireplace. The kitchen cabinets and improvements were all finished, and he took her around the room, showing her the water pump at the sink, her pantry she had wanted, and the new window that looked out over what would be her garden. A butter churn stood next to the new back door, which was now fit with a windowed top half. She noticed the door was split in two halves and she turned to him, one eyebrow cocked.

"I figured you can open the top half for air, but leave the bottom closed to keep out critters...or keep in a little one that might be toddlin' around," he added softly, grinning as she pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes. She could picture just such a scene.

He stepped close again and wrapped his arms around her as she turned in his embrace.

"Oh Sully...I love it all. Everything is perfect," she murmured, gazing up at him lovingly. "We're going to be so happy here," she added in a whisper as he nodded in mute agreement, his lips descending in a kiss that caught them both up in their customary euphoria...only to be interrupted by the sound of wagon wheels rolling to a stop at the front door.

OOOOOOO

Michaela turned after placing the last of her things in the beautiful new chest of drawers and armoire Sully had made, watching as he and Daniel carried her traveling trunk out to store in the barn. _I'll have to get used to not needing to rummage around for my garments,_ she mused with a happy sigh.

"Well, that's the last of it. You're all moved in," Charlotte commented with a grin, turning from sweeping up a bit of dirt and leaves tracked in by the men as they had carried in different articles.

"Oh Charlotte, thank you so much for all of your help...and for sneaking behind my back and helping Sully with his surprise," she added with her half grin.

"Weren't nothin'. Kinda fun, helpin' with the plannin' and knowin' you didn't have a clue," Charlotte chuckled teasingly as she set the broom against the fireplace wall. Her gaze immediately lifted to the lovely blue, white and red design on the unusual two-spouted vase at the center of the mantel. Stepping to the bed, she picked up the blanket lying across the end. Unfolding and holding it up, she admired the workmanship as she remembered the details Michaela had divulged about their Cheyenne friend making it for them and that they had used it and the vase in their 'joining' ritual. Charlotte glanced around, and seeing they were alone, as most of the 'welcome home' committee had either already left or were outside, she stepped closer to her friend.

"A full week in a teepee...I can't imagine...how was it?" she was dying to know.

Michaela drew in a breath as vignettes of their idyllic week danced through her mind. "Oh Charlotte...it was so beautiful...so romantic...we swam and bathed in our own private pond, we fished together, we spent hours lazily lying together on our bed of furs, simply talking...truly, the stuff of dreams," she admitted softly, her eyes then meeting her friend's. "I wish you could have seen the lovely white buckskin wedding dress Snowbird allowed me to wear, simply exquisite...and Sully's intricate wedding shirt...and the ceremony...and when we finally rode our horse to our private sanctuary..." she paused, her eyes misty with remembered beauty.

"And...the first night...just like fallin' off a log, right?" the older woman teased with a naughty twinkle.

Michaela looked down with a blush, still not totally comfortable talking about such a risqué subject...but a trifle more daring than she was before. After a moment, she chanced a glance back at her friend and nodded with a giggle. "You were right...at first, I thought Mother would prove to be right...that it would be a wifely duty. But...things soon improved," she added impishly, resulting in both women chuckling and leaning close, hands rising to cover widely grinning mouths.

"I ain't so old that I don't remember," Charlotte confided after a minute. Tilting her head to one side as she thought about her own wedding night and early days of her marriage, she sighed, admitting, "My Ethan...he may be a scoundrel, but oh honey, the man was a lover. He knew just how to sweep me off my feet."

"Mmm, so does Sully," Michaela murmured softly, blushing in spite of herself as the two once again erupted into giggles.

A moment later the two men walked in the back door, laughing at some remark one of them made. Immediately noticing the flushed faces and barely controlled giggles of the two women, they each astutely realized they had interrupted 'girl talk'.

Casting each other looks as they shared their private 'joke', the women separated and pretended to finish their work.

"Everythin's put away out there, just the way you wanted," Sully offered, receiving a grateful smile from his bride.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she answered, smiling at him as he came close and was unable to resist placing his hands on her arms and leaning for a soft kiss.

Daniel and Charlotte watched them for a moment, each one just a touch envious of their obvious happiness, though Daniel reminded himself that he would be enjoying something similar in the near future. He smiled softly, thinking about the fact that he had put _his_ love on the stagecoach two days before, for her trip back to Boston with her mother and sister – to prepare for eventually rejoining him.

Charlotte drew in a wistful breath and sighed, having resigned herself long ago to the life of a 'widow', but glad that she had her children to fill her life with joy. Clasping her hands together in commencement, she turned to Daniel and quipped with a twinkle, "Well, I don't know about you...but I think the two of us are no longer needed around here."

Daniel grinned and nodded. "I think you're right."

The two lovebirds quickly came out of their daze and set about thanking their friends for all of their invaluable help and seeing them to the wagon for their trip back to town.

As they watched the wagon negotiate the curve at the head of the drive and disappear, the two turned toward each other again and grinned.

"So...now starts our life together, huh?" Sully murmured, smiling lovingly at his new wife.

"Yes, indeed," she agreed as they turned, arms around one another, to head back inside.

OOOOOOOO

Later that evening, the newlyweds bustled together around their brand new kitchen, preparing dinner. Michaela looked over from slicing bread, eying her husband as he stood nonchalantly at the stove, stirring a surprise concoction in the skillet. The aroma was simply divine. He had teased her, not letting her see the special spices he had used, wanting to 'wow' her with his cooking prowess.

"You never cease to amaze me...how did you learn to do all of this?" she asked softly, smiling as he turned his head and sent her a pleased grin.

"Minin' camps."

She nodded. "Ahh," and leaned closer, trying to see into the pan.

"Ah ah ah," he teased, putting his body between her and the object of interest as she shook her head, chuckling at his silliness. Then forking a piece of meat from the pan, he blew on it several times to cool it and turned to hold it to her lips for a taste test.

She took it in her mouth, chewing with an appreciative, "Mmmm," and a wiggle of her eyebrows.

"Yeah?" he grinned in pride.

Reaching carefully into the skillet for a green bean, he blew on it as well, and then held it to her lips. She took it in her mouth, her eyes locked with his as she chewed, rather suggestively, both remembering their many times of playfully feeding one another bites of food on their honeymoon...and what those times always led to...

Swallowing the delectable morsel, she leaned past him and retrieved a bean from the pan, holding it to his lips, but teasingly just a bit out of his reach so he had to 'work' for it. In retaliation, he allowed his lips to find their way onto her fingers, swirling his tongue over their surface and watching her expression, as he knew how that always affected her. He was right, her eyes softened with arousal and he swallowed the bite and quickly took her lips with his for a very flavorful kiss. She moaned into his mouth and completely surrendered.

The kiss went on and on, until Sully's hand reflexively let go of the cooking fork he was holding and it clattered to the floor, causing the enamored couple to break apart with a start, and then dissolve in giggles.

"We'd better finish cooking, or we won't have a meal tonight," Michaela murmured, her voice a tad rough.

He grinned teasingly. "Can't wait till we get to the 'dessert'."

"_If_ we do," she teased with a raised eyebrow.

Turning to finish her task, she emitted a tiny squeak when she felt his hand playfully swat her bottom. She turned her head to flash him a look of surprise...but as her eyes met his twinkling gaze and affectionate wink, they revealed a tiny bit of risqué pleasure at his intimate play.

Never in her wildest dreams had she ever imagined that she would actually enjoy being swatted on the bottom by her husband. Of course, he didn't do it hard enough to hurt in the least, but every time he chose to do it, which wasn't often and usually had something to do with a sassy remark she had made, it never failed to cause her heart to race with anticipation and desire. She was _his_ now, in every way, and his intimate touches were already deliciously familiar. They both knew he could have his way with her any time he chose – _and_ that she would always acquiesce to his desires...the thought sent a thrill straight through her core. _His_ desires? They were hers, too.

Turning back again, she shook her head softly, marveling at herself how much she had changed in the scant seven days since she had become a 'wife.'

In short order, they finished the cooking and sat down at the dining table to eat, making small talk, occasionally feeding one another, and casting each other heated glances.

OOOOOOO

As the sun began to set and the sky became filled with God's handiwork - lovely purple, blue and orange textures painting the sky - Sully left the table to go over and light a fire in the fireplace to combat the bit of evening chilliness seeping into the room. After he accomplished the task, still crouching, he pivoted on his heel and paused, gazing across the short expanse at Michaela as she still sat at her place at the table. His breath caught at the lovely picture she made, the vividly colorful sunset as a backdrop to her own vibrant loveliness. It was as if he were staring at a painting, her unconscious pose so elegant...her profile so delicate and exquisite.

Was she really his wife? The thought still amazed him, especially when his mind wandered back to how impossible such a blessing seemed at the beginning of their friendship. But now...she was _his_ – in every way. That thought sent a blast of desire rushing from the tips of his fingers and toes straight to his core.

Feeling the heat of his gaze, more potent than the fire in the fireplace, Michaela turned her head and met his eyes, her heart quickening as she immediately recognized the desire in their depths. Her husband was hungry again...but not for food. The thought caused a warm flush to infuse her body from head to toe.

She watched, swallowing, as he stood and sauntered toward her in that special way of his that always reminded her of a mountain lion on the prowl. She expected to be taken into his arms for a thorough kiss...but he didn't. Instead, he smiled, a trifle sensually, and reached past her to pick up their plates. Surprised, she watched him carry them into the kitchen and begin filling the wash pan with water from the pump. With a loving, but curious smile, she joined him at the sink with their cups and utensils.

Anticipating the question rumbling in her mind, he leaned to press his lips to her cheek, whispering against her ear, "Figured if we wash these now, it'd keep ya from frettin' about it later...when I'll be wantin' your full attention."

Though his frankness made her want to blush, she held her own, flashing him her sauciest smile as she murmured, "I was thinking the same thing...and perhaps you should see to the animals as well."

He gave her one of his flashing smiles, complete with amused chuckle as they set about the chores.

Ten minutes later, Michaela emptied the dishwater and crossed back into the main room. Retrieving a small package from the top drawer of her dresser, she wandered to the fireplace to stand contemplating the flames as she waited for her husband to join her.

When he came in, he secured the homestead for the night and quietly removed his beads and medicine bag, hanging them over the post on the bed. Coming up behind her silently and slipping his arms around her, he leaned in to press his lips to her neck. She turned in his arms and kissed him, but pulled back a bit before he could deepen the kiss. It was then he realized she held something in her hands.

"Whatcha got there?" he murmured softly.

"It's a gift...for you," she began, taking a half step back to place the small package in his hand. Meeting her eyes, his showing his curiosity, she continued, "You've given me so much...so many gifts for our wedding...I wanted to give you something I made with my own hands, so I asked Snowbird to help me..."

He smiled happily, and having no idea what it could be, he eagerly unwrapped the paper. His mouth opened a bit in surprise as he saw the item, and wondrously grasped it in his fingers to bring it near, perusing its detail.

It was a meticulously braided three-stranded rawhide cord, knotted securely on both ends. In the center was a shiny silver plate, about two inches long, with holes in both ends through which one of the cords within the braid was threaded.

"It's a bracelet," she murmured.

His eyes sought hers. "You made this?" he whispered, his gaze holding hers as his fingers caressed its workmanship.

She nodded. "Mmm hmm...well, with Snowbird's help. And...I had the plate made in Denver..." He looked down at the plate, his eyes tearing up. Engraved on the surface were images of a hawk in flight on the left, and a medicine wheel on the right with five tiny feathers. Between the two were the words –

_Soul Mates..._

_Forever_

Raising his eyes to hers again, the love and adoration within their depths warmed her heart as if he had wrapped his arms securely around her as he whispered, "You done good work... I love that ya made it yourself..."

She grinned playfully. "I told the jeweler to fit as many feathers on the medicine wheel as he could...and when I showed it to Snowbird, she said since he put five, it meant we would have many children..." she paused a little shyly as Sully chuckled.

Smiling a bit tremulously, she added, "I...I understand your reasons for not wanting to wear a wedding band...so I thought perhaps this would do as a replacement." Pausing, she blessed him with one of her half grins. "Then, if a young woman was interested, she might read the engraving and back off."

He let out a soft snicker, thinking that even if another woman tried to show him interest, he wouldn't even be able to see her – if he was with Michaela, his eyes would be on _her_, and if they were apart, his heart would be doing the viewing...

Holding out his left wrist, he asked softly, "Tie it on me?"

She smiled happily and took the cord from his hand, carefully winding it three times around his wrist just tightly enough to hold it firm, but not too tight, and tying it off securely.

With a smile, he flexed his wrist, testing the fit, and she had, of course, done a perfect job of wrapping. Then leaning in, he gave her a long, grateful kiss before touching his forehead to hers and whispering, "I'll never take it off...ever..."

Infinitely pleased with his response, she smiled lovingly into his eyes, and then hers closed in bliss as his lips descended to hers again, this time with sensual pressure. In moments, the hunger and passion from earlier came rushing back and, breathless, each began to undress the other.

Sully bent down and scooped his wife into his arms, never breaking the kiss, and carried her to their bed. Reverently, he placed her on the mattress, his lips still clinging to hers as he made short work of removing his buckskins. His hands lovingly roaming her body, he quickly removed the rest of her garments and lay next to her on the bed, gathering her in his arms with a passionate sigh. He knew he would never tire of the delicious feeling of touching and caressing her soft, silky skin.

After a few minutes, Michaela pulled back a bit, her eyes twinkling happily in the firelight.

He grinned down at her expression, pausing to lovingly brush her nose with his with a whispered, "What?"

She shook her head, breathing in the wonderful familiar scent of her husband's naked body, along with the fragrant essence of everything in the room. Her senses heightened, she noticed everything...the pleasant aroma of the new wood furniture, the clean, fresh tang of the whitewash on the walls, the comforting scent of the wood burning in the fireplace...and the soft feel of the mattress beneath their entwined bodies. At this thought, she reached up and lovingly smoothed a lock of his hair behind one ear as his eyes once again drank in her beauty.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" he murmured, moving a hand to trace the curve of her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

She let out a breathy giggle, allowing her eyes to roam around the room, straight up at the massive headboard towering above them, and then back to his gaze. Perhaps it was the newness of their surroundings...or the fact that they had rejoined the 'real world' and the memories of their idyllic honeymoon now seemed like a dream... as if the woman who had made love with her new spouse so freely was another person entirely...she didn't know, but struggled to articulate her thoughts to her puzzled husband.

"I was just thinking...this will be our first time...making love in a real bed..."

His lips slowly stretched into a grin as he agreed, and silently thought about how much easier it would be for his knees...

Leaning down to press a teasing kiss to her lips, he murmured to one side, "We could throw a rug on the floor in front of the fire...just for ol' times' sake." After another kiss, he pretended to pull back to go do just that, but she caught his arms and held him still as they chuckled together.

"I'm perfectly content right here, Mr. Sully," she murmured, pulling him down to take his lips with her own in a fiery kiss that set his senses blazing.

With a breath, he whispered, "Glad ta hear it. And by the way...I love ya so much, _Mrs. Sully_. I'm glad ya chose _me_," he added teasingly before folding her totally in his arms for a very thorough kiss to seal the deal.

His teasing comment sparked a thought that she was so very glad she had made wise choices all along the way. Choosing to make the journey to Arizona...choosing to come to Colorado Springs instead of going back to Boston...choosing to help Sully desert from the army...choosing Sully over Daniel... _Choices? My course was clear since the first day I met this amazing man... Truly, there could never be any other life for me now._

No further talk was needed as they proceeded to initiate their beautiful wedding bed. The only sounds in the room were the soft crackling of the fire and the passionate sighs, gasps of delight, and moans of pleasure of the couple in the throes of matrimonial bliss.

As Michaela joyously moved in tandem with her husband, she knew that come what may, good and bad, they would see it through together. It would be a life to cherish..._soul mates forever_...

Indeed, as one of Michaela's favorite authors put it, 'Till all the seas gang dry.'

_**~~THE END~~**_

_A/N – Thanks to each and every person who took time to review this story and let me know that my efforts were appreciated. And thank you to some very sweet and helpful women, without whom I could not have finished it – _

_Adri – for whom this story was written and to whom it is dedicated..._

_Kay – my faithful friend and pre-reader..._

_Keren – my beta for the first half..._

_And Audrey – my fantastic beta, advisor, writer extraordinaire. _

_I love you all._


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